Home
by James5
Summary: Life goes on for Dean and Emma, but not back in civilization.
1. For As Long As We Both Shall Live

Preface: This story was first published a few years ago, but ended up getting deleted — along with all the reviews. This second edition followed a few months later. In addition to some minor edits, the updated version features a new scene and a couple of new chapters. You can also visit **bluelagoonbash. wordpress. com** for exclusive comic pages and artwork.

It's been an exhaustive project, and my gratitude goes out to all who've contributed art and offered feedback. Please leave a review sharing your thoughts.

* * *

 **"For As Long As We Both Shall Live"**

* * *

Many of her friends had grown up believing in fate — but Emma Robinson had always believed in control.

Fate had a way of converting people, though, and it appeared to be targeting Emma right now. Why else would she be stuck on this island for three long months? Why else would her attempts to get home continually fail? And why else would the flare she'd just fired — the very last one — somehow go unnoticed by the people in the helicopter?

Her jaw fell open as the vehicle faded from sight, a slew of thick clouds covering up its departure.

Dean held a palm up to block the sun, staring in the direction that the chopper had gone. He eyed the scene with a look of nervous suspicion, the same one he'd worn when he'd found the skeleton.

By the time Emma turned to him, however, Dean's expression had entirely changed. She saw nothing but a calm, contented stare, the one he used while eyeing the sunset everyday.

Emma's face became a mixture of anger and awe. She eyed Dean as though he was out of his mind.

Dean looked at her…then flinched in surprise. After a moment of silence, he reached for her hand.

Emma pulled away, storming off toward the forest.

* * *

Dean walked to the shore and began his daily fishing duties. Around half an hour into his familiar routine, he noticed that Emma had appeared as well.

She hadn't acknowledged him in any way. She'd simply walked up and gone about her business.

A few days had passed since the helicopter had left. Prior to that event, Emma had suspected that they'd never get off this island. Over the past hour, her opinion had changed: It was no longer a suspicion, it was an absolute certainty.

She cast a weary glance at her stony time slate, then crouched and added another mark to it. The wind blew her loose shirt across her face. She pushed it aside while looking down at the stone.

Dean watched his companion with a curious stare. She'd barely spoken since the helicopter had appeared, and all of his attempts at discussions had failed.

He leaned down with a sigh, gazing off into the distance. "The silent treatment's getting kind of old, Em."

She went on staring away at the slate, tallying up the number of days.

After a few seconds, Dean picked himself up. "Fine," he said, turning away from her. "You want privacy? You can have as much as you need." He paused while waiting for her reaction. The threat didn't seem to have any effect. Dean shrugged, swinging his spear about. "All right, well…guess I'll see you in a year or so. Maybe you'll feel like talking then."

Emma rolled her eyes, then sprung up and threw her carving rock down. "You are so, _frustrating!_ "

Dean turned around and spread his arms. "You want to tell me why? Because I'm not real good at reading minds."

"We're stuck on this island."

"Yeah, I kind of noticed." He smiled.

"Well you could've fooled me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Emma ran her hands over her face. She took a deep breath, then eyed Dean calmly. "You realize that we have no way of getting home, right?"

"I do," he replied, compassion creeping into his eyes. "And I'll tell you the same thing I said when we were stranded at sea: freaking out- -"

"Isn't going to make us any less screwed." Emma looked up at the sky. "I'm not asking you to freak out…I'm just asking you to care."

Dean squinted a little, clearly confused.

"Sometimes I honestly can't tell if we want the same thing," she said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about leaving this island. Going home." She looked him over. "Some days you act like you want to get rescued. Other days you act like you'd rather stay here. Which is it?"

Dean turned away, getting lost in his thoughts. His bare muscles bulged as he folded his arms.

Emma watched him as her hair danced about in the breeze.

A brief silence passed before he managed to answer. "I'm honestly not too sure anymore," he mumbled.

"Well I wish you'd just pick one and stick with it. All the inconsistency is what's frustrating me."

" _I'm_ inconsistent?" He chuckled. "What about you? I'm not the only one who likes it here sometimes. You've said so yourself."

Emma looked away, shaking her head in denial. She knew that Dean had a valid point, but she was too angry to admit it right now.

He motioned downward toward her slate. "So why are you still counting the days and weeks on that little rock of yours? Why do you care how long we've been on this island?"

"Because I'm not content with all of this — like you are. I can't _stand_ the thought of this being my life now."

Dean's grin froze on his face, then began to fade little by little. He fell quiet, and looked away.

"What?" she asked, spreading her arms a bit.

"Nothing. It's just…" His head sagged, and his voice softened. "I guess it makes me a little sad to know that you feel that way."

Emma's lips parted a tad. She immediately realized that Dean wasn't referring to the fact that they were stuck on an island. He was referring to the relationship that they'd _built_ on the island.

Dean began walking off without a word.

"Dean…" she called. Emma rushed out in front of him and held his wrists. "Wait a minute. I didn't mean it like that." She pulled Dean close and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry."

Dean closed his eyes, hugging her back.

After a few seconds, Emma let her eyes drift closed as well. "Sorry for losing it like that. It's just…I don't know…sometimes it seems like you don't care whether we make it home, or whether we die here."

Dean stared out at the water. "Maybe we define the word _home_ differently, Em."

Emma opened her eyes, feeling a tad confused. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you've got it all wrong. I don't want to die here, I want to live here — with you."

* * *

Emma and Dean pulled off their clothes, bobbing together in the quiet lagoon.

Dean sighed a bit, and let his gaze wander off. "This is going to sound really weird…but when we first got here, I sort of wondered if life was punishing me or something."

Emma's eyes narrowed in slow confusion. "Why?"

"I used to spend so much time acting like I could care less about everything around me…" Dean frowned. "And I can see now that I took a lot for granted."

Emma found herself quite surprised by his words. For a good deal of their time on the island, Dean had kept these emotions well-hidden, pretending to be indifferent to the world they'd left behind.

"But now I think it's the other way around. I don't view any of this as a punishment, I view it as a gift."

Emma squinted a little. "Why is that?" she asked softly.

"Because being here, being with you…I feel more alive now than I did back in the city." Dean stared into Emma's gentle, comforting gaze. A flutter of excitement filled his heart, and a calm grin spread across his face. "I don't know if any of this was 'meant' to happen. All I know is I've been given a simple, quiet life with the girl I…I…" Dean paused, his stare freezing on her.

Emma's mouth fell open, and her eyes widened a bit. For a second, it sounded like Dean was about to confirm something she'd grown suspicious of lately.

As his heart sped up, and his cheeks grew red, Dean found himself looking off to the side. "Anyway…" he mumbled, clearing his throat.

Much to Emma's dismay, Dean had fallen silent. More than anything right now, she wanted him to finish saying what he was about to say. At the same time, however, she didn't want to pressure Dean into doing anything he wasn't ready for.

And for a moment, she paused to wonder what that said about her own feelings for him.

Emma looked down at the water, and changed the subject. "We never talk much about your dad."

Dean closed his eyes, then opened them slowly, keeping his gaze away from hers.

"Sorry," she said. "Sorry for bringing that up."

"It's okay," he whispered. "I just feel like talking about him will make me miss him more."

She ran a hand along his face. "We don't have to then. I don't want to make you sad."

"I'm not," he said, looking into her eyes. "As long as we're here, I'll always miss my family, and you'll always miss yours. But whenever I start getting too sad about the past…I kind of tell myself to remember the present." He smiled a little. "It doesn't make all the sadness just disappear, but it does make me feel better again."

She drifted in closer to him. "The _present_ …" Emma pondered that word while watching specks of sunlight glisten along the surface. "I used to spend so much time planning for the future, that I kind of forgot to live in the present."

He nodded, thinking back to some of their previous discussions.

"But things are different here. I've had to slow down and embrace the moment."

Dean made a playful grin. "I guess getting stuck on an island will make that happen."

Emma giggled. "Not just because of that…but because of you. Because of us."

Dean wrapped his arms around Emma's shoulders, running a few fingers through her long damp hair. Another slow smile crept across his face.

Emma met his grin with one of her own. Then she looked into the water, and her joy began to fade.

"What's wrong?"

Emma gazed down at her calm reflection, recognizing one of her guilty little stares. "You're not the only one who took things for granted back home. I think I undervalued something as well."

Dean drew back in mock amazement. "What was that?"

She hesitated before looking up at him. "Love," she mumbled. "My parents' love." Emma glanced off and shook her head a little. "Parents are parents. They get on your nerves for various reasons. Sometimes they're super strict and you think they're being too mean…or they're super affectionate and you think they're being too _nice_."

Dean chuckled.

"I guess the bottom line is that your parents love you. They always have, and they always will. Mine told me they loved me all the time…and I used to just smile, and hug them back…" She paused while feeling a tear well up. "But after a while, I think I stopped appreciating what they meant when they said it."

Dean watched her closely, letting her know he was listening.

"Sometimes it's easy to forget what 'I love you' means. It means that people value who you are, and what you bring into their lives." She looked out toward the horizon. "And it means that they'd miss you, if you disappeared or something."

Dean wiped a tear from Emma's face. After holding quiet for about a minute, he calmly spoke up. "I never met your parents, Em, but I'm pretty sure that they knew you didn't take them for granted."

Emma took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. She buried her head in his chest, and made a weak little grin. "Thanks for saying that," she muttered. And then Dean's statement began sinking in. "You're talking in the past tense." She paused. "You really think we're going to be here a while."

Dean sighed, licking his lips. "I don't know how long we're going to be here," he said, "but if I have to be stuck on this island with anyone, then I'm definitely glad to be stuck here with you."

* * *

Night had fallen across the area, and a bright moon was shining over the island.

Emma lay awake in Dean's strong arms, brushing a finger along his sleeping face. Whenever she felt anxious or discontent, it seemed that Dean always managed to cheer her up.

Amidst his efforts, as well as her own, she could feel something in her beginning to change. Her outbursts of panic were becoming less frequent these days.

She wasn't exactly sure what any of this meant.

Before long, however, she began to recall her earlier words — the ones she'd used while defining a certain emotion. "Dean," she whispered, so as not to wake him up.

Just as she'd hoped, he gave no response.

Her heart suddenly threatened to pound out of her chest. "I just want to say…that I value who you are, and what you bring into my life." Emma's eyes watered as she watched him a moment. Then she turned away, and snuggled under their cover.

Seconds later, she felt Dean's arm pulling her close again.

"I love you too, Emma," he said.

Emma's face lit up, glowing brighter than the stars.

Moments afterward, she closed her eyes and cuddled against him, and both of them drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 **Home**


	2. My One And Only

**"My One And Only"**

* * *

Emma sprawled out on the beach and looked up at the clouds. It had been three years now since she and Dean had arrived. If fate was real, then apparently it wanted her to live her life on this island.

She recalled a humourous moment from their first night here, when she couldn't tell if Dean was being mean or nice. These days, she could say the same thing about fate itself.

She wasn't uncomfortable on this island — quite the contrary in fact. It was almost like this place had a mind of its own, doing its best to comfort its queen. Almost everyday, no matter where she awakened, sunlight poured down to soothe her skin. Waves rushed out to massage her feet. Flowers grew in all her favorite places.

There was a time when she'd refused to accept living here, but Emma knew this could only go on for so long. Either she could be a child and keep throwing tantrums, or she could be a young woman and come to terms with reality.

The search for her and Dean had clearly ended years ago; it was obvious that this was her home now.

Rather than dwelling on the negatives, she focused on the positives. Instead of mourning what she'd lost, she embraced what she had.

Of course, the things that she'd _lost_ still weighed heavily on her mind. Sometimes she couldn't help but long for a few trinkets from her past. Yet with almost every item that she found herself missing, she could think of a good reason _not_ to have it as well.

Emma thought about her old Maybelline collection, then brushed a hand over her smooth, dry cheeks. Back in the city, she'd liked drenching her face with assorted cosmetics, then parading around like one of her famous idols. But while others had called her beautiful while she was wearing makeup, Dean called her beautiful without any.

Emma looked down at her perpetually bare feet, knowing that she'd never get to wear any designer shoes again. The prospect of this was simply mind-blowing, and had required a long and valiant effort of acceptance on her part. Eventually, however, she'd managed to look on the bright side of things: high heels were a pain to walk in anyway.

She paused to think back on her favorite candy, recalling how tangy and tasty it was. Living without that wasn't going to be fun. On the upside, though, she'd been eating a lot of healthy fruit that she'd neglected before, and most of it tasted pretty sweet as well.

Finally, Emma recalled her fondness for writing text messages all day. It had always been fun to send those out to her friends. In time, however, it dawned on her that she'd rarely _bonded_ with her friends on the level that they'd wanted. One reason was due to their many differences, the other revolved around their habit of texting each other. Besides their brief interactions at school, their primary means of communicating was through social media.

While text-messaging had been short and sweet, her conversations with Dean were long and intimate. It wasn't that a friend meant any less than a lover, but talking certainly seemed to mean more than texting. It had made Dean her friend, and her lover as well.

Emma chuckled, and closed her eyes. She certainly didn't have everything that she wanted, but she did seem to have everything that she needed — food, water, comfort, and love.

Whenever she felt nostalgic or anxious or sad, one everlasting truth helped her get through the day: Dean loved her.

That was all she needed to know.

* * *

Dean McMullen couldn't believe his eyes. It was surprising enough to find a pouch near the mountain — nestled in the dirt for years or decades — but what he saw inside was simply amazing.

Amidst an old-looking watch and an ancient brown coin, Dean found a pair of gleaming gold rings.

After taking a moment to let the sight sink in, he turned and cast his stare toward a distant beach.


	3. Matrimony

**"Matrimony"**

* * *

Dean sat a number of things down on a small wooden tray: chopped fruit, roasted fish, cooked vegetables, and a bottle of water. After pausing to take a deep breath, he placed a golden ring right down in the center, then covered it up with a coconut shell.

He smiled while admiring his handiwork. Emma was in for quite a surprise today.

The plan was simple: lure her with the food, let her spot the ring, then wait for her to come running into his arms. It was the best proposal that he could think of.

Dean placed the tray in Emma's favorite spot on the beach, then snuck off so that she could find it alone. He took a place in the woods and sprawled out on his back, tucking his hands behind his head.

Around 10 minutes later, Emma's voice rang out. "Dean!" she yelled, clearly excited.

Dean gritted his teeth amidst a huge smile, then sprung to his feet and answered her call. "Yeah?"

Emma stepped forth with a familiar expression, narrowing her eyes and wriggling her nose with a grin. "You are the sweetest, most romantic guy there is."

Dean opened his arms, inviting her forward.

"I appreciate you making me lunch," she said. "But I already ate about 20 minutes ago…so I'm afraid I haven't touched a thing on that tray."

Dean's jaw dropped.

"I know." She giggled, then shrugged a tad. "We'll just turn that lunch into dinner, all right?" Emma walked over and kissed his cheek, then gave Dean a quick pat on the shoulder. "I'm heading to the lagoon."

Dean became a statue in the forest for a moment. After letting out a quiet sigh, he headed down to the beach to retrieve the tray.

* * *

It had taken him about half a day, but Dean had finally collected Emma's favorite flowers.

After stringing together a loose bouquet, he nestled the ring right down in its center. When Emma leaned her head to inhale the scent, the ring would be staring back at her.

The sound of footsteps caught his attention. Dean spun around and hid the flowers from sight.

Emma paused, looking him over with a smirk. "What are you hiding there?"

Dean licked his lips, feeling his insides tingle. His breathing grew heavier all of a sudden. "Em…" he muttered.

She leaned her head to the side, lifting an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Dean exhaled with a smile. "This is for you."

Emma's face brightened as she saw the bouquet. "Dean," she said. "They're so beautiful. Thank you." She held the stems in one hand, and hugged Dean with the other.

He returned the affection, then separated from her.

Emma began leaning down to smell the flowers…

Dean tensed, feeling his excitement rising.

Just as Emma was about to notice the ring, a ray of sunlight got in her face. She winced and hid her eyes in response, keeping them closed as she enjoyed the scent. "Mmm…" she moaned.

Dean frowned in surprise.

Emma lifted her head and looked over at Dean. "You know what? I'm going to put these in that jar we found." After setting the flowers in a small jar of water, she turned and gave Dean another kiss on the cheek. "Come on," she said. "Let's go for a swim." Emma pulled off her shirt and skipped down toward the beach.

Dean eyed the jar with a dumbfounded gaze. "Be right there."

* * *

Shortly after their swim had ended, Dean managed to get a moment alone. He picked up Emma's discarded shirt, and snuck the ring into one of her pockets. Then he turned around and shouted out toward the beach. "Hey. It's wash day, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she called back.

Dean shrugged. "We might as well go do our clothes then."

She nodded. "All right. I'll be right there."

When they reached the water minutes later, Dean offered Emma some friendly advice. "Don't forget to check your pockets." He smiled.

"It's okay. I haven't put anything in them." Emma began drawing her shirt beneath the surface.

Dean stiffened in fright. "No, Emma, wait." He rushed over and took the garment.

"What's wrong?" She eyed him peculiarly.

"Em…" He shook his head, then stood up straight.

Emma held quiet, rising as well.

"I've been trying to surprise you." He blushed.

"Surprise me with what?"

Dean secured the ring in a closed palm, then took a moment to face the woman before him. As he studied Emma's familiar features — her calm stare, her inviting smile, all of the things that made Emma, Emma — Dean knew without a doubt that he was facing his destiny.

Emma brushed her hair back with a sensitive look.

"When I was a little kid," Dean said, "I always saw those 'romantic' movie proposals now and then. The ones with a guy getting down on one knee, and making this fancy speech about his love for a girl." Dean looked away with a shy chuckle. "All of it seemed so sappy back then, and I vowed that I'd never be like those guys I saw." He opened his hand. "But I was wrong."

Her eyes widened as she saw the ring.

Dean bent his knee and knelt before Emma, giving her a playful smile. "I'm going to get all cheesy now. Bear with me if you've got a minute."

Emma giggled, feeling a tear well up.

"Emmaline Robinson, you awakened something within me that I'd forgotten was there. I know that we've both lost a lot, but we've gained a lot as well. These past three years have been some of the best of my life, and I want to say the same thing about the ones ahead. We don't have a chapel, and we don't need one. We live in our own society now." Dean paused, then said the next words with more sincerity than he'd ever felt in his life. "What I'm trying to say is that I love you…in ways that I've never loved anyone before." His voice softened. "Will you marry me?"

Emma eased her hands around Dean's cheeks, nodding as a tear rolled down her face. "Yes."

* * *

Stars were shining over the island. A small fire was casting an orange hue about.

Emma stood before Dean, holding her hands in his. Her eyes gleamed with a soft, playful affection, as though she was honored that he loved her enough to propose. From what she'd heard, she was far from the only bride to ever feel this way.

Dean reached over to a small wooden stand, then placed the ring he'd retrieved on Emma's finger. He thought about his father, and then about his mom, mentally sending his love to both of them. "Do you, Emma, take me as your husband?"

Her smile brightened, and she took a deep breath. "I do," she said, brushing a hand along his face. Emma placed the other ring on Dean's finger, then felt a little flutter of excitement in her chest. This wasn't the wedding day that she'd envisioned as a girl, but any wedding to Dean was good enough for her. She wished that her family could be here to see it, knowing that they missed her as much as she missed them. Ultimately, however, Emma hoped that her family had found happiness again, because she'd definitely managed to find some of her own. "Do you, Dean, take me as your wife?"

Dean looked at Emma as though she was the most amazing sight in the world right now. "I do."

They brought all of their hands together again. "Then I guess there's only one thing left to say…" Emma said.

Dean nodded, and the two of them began speaking in unison. "From this day forth, we are husband and wife."

Emma stirred with a giddy smile.

Dean stared back, returning her affection.

"You can kiss your bride now," she said.

Dean and Emma leaned toward each other, and shared the longest, most loving kiss of their lives.


	4. Commitment

**"Commitment"**

* * *

Emma lay awake with her back to Dean's chest, smiling as she studied the ring on her finger. She nuzzled against him, and closed her eyes. "Dean?" she whispered.

"Yeah?" he replied. Dean couldn't help but grin at her ever-curious tone.

"What are you thinking about?"

He let his stare drift toward the sky. "For the first time in a while…I kind of wish that we could leave the island."

Emma's eyes opened, and she froze in surprise. She'd never expected Dean to say anything like that. He'd seemed so content here for the past three years.

"Right now, there are all these places that I'd love to visit on our honeymoon."

Her lips parted as his explanation sank in. Then she lifted an eyebrow, and spoke teasingly. "What kinds of places did you have in mind?"

Dean chuckled, easing into his usual laid-back demeanor. "How about London, England on a foggy morning? Or an amusement park with a big water slide? Or maybe a tower in Paris, when the stars are shining."

Emma narrowed her eyes and grinned. "Sounds like fun."

Dean fell silent, and his voice began to lower. "Sometimes I wonder if you could've fallen in love with me someplace else."

She quieted, holding her calm eyes on the fire.

"I've also wondered what would happen if we left the island. I know it sounds stupid, but at some point, I started to think that losing this life would mean losing you too…and maybe I've never entirely gotten over that fear."

Emma flashed a sad frown while absorbing his words. Dean's anxiety came as an unpleasant surprise. She rolled over, eyeing him with a grin. Her bare breasts were nuzzled against Dean's bare chest, and Emma had come to adore this feeling through the years. "Our relationship isn't about where we are, it's about who we are." She placed a quick kiss on his lips. "If you and I went back to civilization tomorrow…I'd marry you all over again, Mr. McMullen."

Dean's lips curled into a slow smile.

As Emma lowered her face just above his, the two began doing one of their favorite things: nuzzling their noses together for a while.

* * *

The next morning, the newlyweds visited a perch above a wild shore. After finding a smooth spot on the rocky surface, the couple pictured themselves in London while having breakfast in the fog.

Later in the day, they walked to a tall, wet slope overlooking a lagoon. They held each other close while sliding toward the water, then sailed through the air before making a splash.

Once night had fallen, Dean and Emma scaled the highest hill that they knew of. The two sat side by side while looking out at the stars.

Emma flexed her fingers, eyeing her ring once more. Then she smiled at Dean, wrapping an arm around his waist.


	5. Truth or Dare

**"Truth or Dare"**

* * *

Dean took Emma's hand and helped her up a brown slope. The two were on a brief expedition that was nearing its end. A lush green forest lay sprawled out before them, filled with the berries that they'd come to find. Just as they were about to begin picking fruit, a rumble of thunder caught their attention, and a heavy downpour followed moments later.

Dean and Emma sprinted into a cave. They sat across from each other while looking out at the rain.

Emma shook her damp hair and began wringing out her shirt. "You'd think we'd know how to predict the weather by now."

Dean chuckled at Emma's whiny little voice. And then his face brightened with a sudden excitement. "Truth or Dare?" he offered.

She rolled her eyes.

"Come on. Why not?"

Emma sighed, shaking her head. She knew that Dean could be quite persistent when in a playful mood. "Okay. Truth."

He spread his arms. "Why not a dare?"

"Because I know you'll just ask me to run out there or something."

Dean laughed again, and began thinking of a question. "All right…" He eyed her closely. "Let's talk truth. You're always going on about how I cheer you up, and how I comfort you…"

She made a quick, appreciative nod.

"But the fact is, you've been doing the same thing for me ever since we got to this island."

Emma smiled at Dean's sweet words.

"And I can tell I'm not the only person who you've ever done that for," he said. "I want to know who else you've taken care of. Back in civilization, who was the person who you looked out for most?"

She slowly lifted her gaze to the roof. "My little sister." Emma closed her eyes for a second. "One time, I even had to protect her from myself."

Dean squinted, wondering what that meant. Just before he could ask, Emma spoke up.

"Anyway, I believe it's my turn now." She arched her knees and wrapped her hands around them. "Truth or dare?"

A flash of lightning glowed across the grounds. "Truth," he mumbled.

"What kind of career would you have if we weren't here right now?"

Dean stretched his legs out and looked down at the dirt. "Before we left for the trip, I told my dad that I might come to work in his field. It sort of seemed like a way of reconnecting with him."

Emma watched Dean with sensitivity in her eyes. She always liked hearing stories about Jack.

Dean looked up and lifted his eyebrows. "My turn," he said. "Truth or dare?"

Emma was interrupted by a crack of thunder. She looked outward as the sound of rain grew louder. "Truth," she replied.

Dean recalled their talk about Emma's good will — about how she'd spread it among him and others. "You're real good at making someone feel loved…but have you ever told anyone that you _hated_ them instead?" Dean couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. The very idea sounded absurd.

Emma looked away, and her gaze began to darken.

Dean's smile froze, then slowly melted. He was waiting for a _no_ , but it never came.

Emma brushed back a lock of her hair. "Around two years before you and I got here…I found out that my mom was cheating on my dad."

Dean's face stirred in surprise. He interlocked his fingers, and leaned forward a little.

"So I threatened to tell my dad about the affair. Then my mom got scared and said that I'd be breaking up our family." Emma eyed the ground with a stony stare. "I've never been as angry at anyone as I was at her that day. I couldn't believe she had the nerve to say that to me — seeing as she was the one doing the actual cheating." She closed her eyes a moment, then opened them again. "She tried reaching for me, and I pulled away. Then I told her something that she'll probably never forget." Emma's lips trembled a little. "I said 'I hate my life, I hate that guy you're with…and I hate you.' "

Dean watched her with a look of unease. He knew that Emma had her virtues, but she also had a temper. However, it was hard to imagine her saying something like that.

"She looked sadder in that moment than I'd ever seen her before." Emma paused, letting out a deep breath. "Then I ran home, and cried in my room. Not the sad kind of tears, but the angry ones, you know? I just hugged a pillow and stared a hole in the wall." She recalled that it had been raining on that day as well. "My mom ended things with the other guy the next day. After that, I figured she'd keep her distance from me." Emma raised an eyebrow. "Instead, she got warm and affectionate all the time, hugging me and saying how much I meant to her."

Dean nodded, smiling a little.

"She said that she was sorry for putting me through what she had, and that she didn't want to be the kind of person I hated." Emma quieted as a wave of shame swept through her. "But I was still angry, so I wouldn't respond at first. I kind of shut her out, even when I didn't really want to."

Dean had almost never seen Emma in a spiteful state, save for when she'd given him the silent treatment. Emma was a pleasant, easy-going person. It simply wasn't in her nature to hold a grudge.

She looked down at her twiddling fingers. "Around six months later…we connected again. We spoke more openly, we shared a few jokes, and she was the first person there when I needed someone to talk to." Emma found herself fighting back tears. "At that point, I started returning her hugs, and everything pretty much went back to normal." She made a small frown while staring downward. "I just wish I'd told her I loved her as much as she said it to me."

Dean reached over and held her hand. "She knew, Em. You know that she knew."

Emma licked her lips, nodding to herself. Another flash of lightning spread across her face. After a few seconds, she looked up at Dean and made a small grin. "So," she whispered. "Truth or dare?"

Dean rolled his shoulders. "Truth," he muttered.

She began to watch him very steadily. "Did you love any girls before you met me?" Emma recalled a similar question she'd asked long ago.

"No," Dean said, his response coming instantly.

Emma flinched. "That was quick," she chuckled.

"It's not something I need to think about. I'm looking at my first and only love right now."

Her eyes watered, and she closed her grip around his. Their rings sparkled as they brought all of their hands together.

* * *

Once the storm had finally passed, the pair collected their fruit and headed back to the beach, making their return just before nightfall.

The two sat by a fire while cooking the rest of their dinner. "Hey," Emma said. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"What do you think we should do for our wedding anniversary next year?"

Dean shrugged. "Anything that doesn't involve getting caught in the rain."

Emma giggled, nuzzling against him.


	6. Progress

**"Progress"**

* * *

Emma awakened to the sound of her name. Her weary eyes opened slowly at first…then became twin saucers in the dark of night.

Her mother was standing a fair distance away, sporting a ragged gray dress that danced about in the breeze.

Emma used both hands to prop herself off the ground, staring in awe before she rose to her feet.

After nearly a minute of silence had passed, Emma's eyebrows began to lower. Her lips tightened, her jaw shook, and she charged across the sand in quiet fury. She brought her mom down with a quick tackle, wrestling her on the ground as their struggle began.

* * *

Emma awakened in reality with a violent shake, rising with a power that surprised even Dean. She gasped while clutching the cover to her chest, shoulders flowing with each quick breath.

"Em?" Dean said, sitting up beside her.

She closed her eyes, then held a hand to her face. This was the third night that she'd dreamed of seeing Barbara again, and not one of their reunions had been the least bit pleasant.

"What's wrong?" he asked, running a hand along her back.

Emma wanted the answer to that question herself. What, exactly, was triggering these visions?

Her mind drifted back to the discussion in the cave, when she'd recalled the painful details of her mother's affair. She knew that talking about pain was supposed to make things better, but in this case, it appeared to have made things worse. For reasons she couldn't entirely understand, she seemed to be angry all over again.

Dean pulled her close and whispered into her ear. "Did you have the dream?"

Emma nodded, still covering her face.

Dean wrapped both arms around her chest, embracing the girl who'd taught him several things about love. Among the many lessons and reminders, one had stood out: Love had an unpleasant side as well — when the person you loved hurt, you did too.

Emma sighed in his arms, letting the world slip away. After basking in Dean's warmth for several moments, she willed herself to visit a colder place.

Emma began thinking about the affair again. She recalled all the complications it had created in her family. Forgiving her mom had been challenging enough — and keeping her secret was just as hard. It felt like she was lying to her dad about something, and Emma resented having to feel that way.

She'd never entirely let go of that anger, she'd simply buried it as best she could.

And now it was rising to the surface again.

Emma glanced at Dean, then eased onto her back. "Let's just lay back down," she whispered.

"Em…"

She reached out and stroked his hand. "You're here for me in any way that I need you, right?"

He slowly nodded.

Emma's eyes softened with vulnerability. "I just need you to hold me right now."

Dean sprawled out on their mat of leaves, wrapping an arm around Emma's waist.

Emma took a deep breath, then looked up at the stars.

* * *

Emma heard the sound of nearby footsteps — too soft and gentle to belong to Dean. She spun around, freezing where she stood.

Barbara watched her daughter with a soothing stare, gently looking her up and down. "I love you, Emma." She paused, waiting for Emma's response.

Emma eyed the woman in hesitation, feeling oddly conflicted about her own feelings.

Barbara smiled. "After the affair, you never could say 'I love you' to me as much as I said it to you. At first, you simply shut me out. Then you mostly just smiled, and hugged me back."

Emma closed her eyes, letting her head sag.

"Your sister got so jealous of the affection that I kept giving you. And I got so happy when you started returning it." Barbara began to frown. "And now you hate me all over again."

* * *

Emma awakened with a tense fidget, raising a hand to block the sun.

Dean approached from a distance with a tray of food. "She's awake," he called, flashing a playful smile. "Be a good girl and I'll bring you lunch in bed."

Emma sprung to her feet and began striding away.

Dean paused upon noting the look in her eyes. By now, it was easy to tell when Emma had a purpose. "Emma, wait. What are you doing?"

"I'm going to the desert."

Dean tensed as the word sunk in. It was a nickname they used for the hottest area on the island. "Why?"

"That's where I keep seeing her in my dreams."

He put the tray down and began chasing after her. "You can't go there without water. Not at this time of year. It's too–" His words trailed off as he tripped to the ground and sprained his leg.

Unaware of Dean's fall, Emma moved steadily ahead on the path before her.

* * *

Sweat drifted slowly down Emma's face. Her knees shook, and her head sagged.

While trudging through the hot and sandy plains, she began to see a number of mysterious sights: her Maybelline collection, her favorite candy, a couple of old dresses, and her trusty cell phone.

Emma's eyes fluttered closed, and she slowly collapsed, drifting off into her latest dream.

Within moments, Barbara had appeared in her vision again.

"Mom?"

The other woman slowly nodded, standing across from her in the sand.

Emma closed the distance between them. After a moment of pause, she gently held her mother's hands.

Barbara smiled gratefully.

"I don't quite get what's going on." Emma looked a little confused. "Why have I been seeing you so often lately?"

Barbara made a cute little smile, leaning her head off to the side. "You're a new wife, Emma. Like it or not, that means you've been comparing yourself to me."

After pausing to let those words sink in, Emma nodded, then looked away. "I guess that's got me remembering your mistake. Maybe that's why I became angry about it again."

Barbara turned her head with a sad expression.

"But I don't hate you," Emma said firmly. "I didn't hate you in the past, and I don't hate you in the present."

Barbara grinned, her gaze softening with affection.

A deep blush swept over Emma's face. She stroked her mom's hands, then looked into her eyes. "I know that we'll always miss each other, but I honestly hope that you, Dad and Stacey are happy right now."

She nodded again. "In your heart, I think you sense that we are. And from what I can tell, it appears that you're happy as well."

Emma looked off with a thoughtful stare, eyeing the distant sights that comprised the island. After a brief pause, she spoke up once more. "Dean does make me happy," she admitted with a grin. "This simply isn't the kind of happiness that I expected to have."

Barbara eyed her in fascination. "Tell me a little about the life you had planned."

"You already know about that."

"Perhaps I do, but tell me again."

Emma's gaze drifted upward. "After high school, I would've headed off to college for several years — about the same amount of time that I've been gone now. And after _that_ …I would've headed off to go someplace else…" She paused. "In order to make a home of my own."

Barbara smiled again. "Looks like you're in the process of doing that now," she muttered. "I know that things haven't played out the way we would've preferred…but I want to say that I'm proud of you, Em. I'm proud of the strength you've shown, the love you've found, and the woman you've become. You summoned your courage to face the life you have now. You helped Dean find his heart again. And you've grown more mature and resourceful than ever."

Emma's face became full of affection. She'd just heard so many things that she'd been wanting to hear.

"But you have to go back to Dean now, Emma. He still needs you. He always has, and he always will."

Emma blushed while thinking of the guy she loved. Then she turned her attention back to her mother. After studying the woman for a quiet moment, her lips pulled into a warm smile. "I love you, Mom."

Barbara's eyes filled with tears. "I love you too, Emma."

The two pulled each other close, and shared a long hug.

* * *

A bright sky was waiting as her eyes fluttered open.

"Emma!" Dean called out from a distance.

She turned her head to see him running across the sand.

Upon reaching her, Dean lifted Emma's head onto his lap, then raised a bottle of water to her lips. After Emma had taken a few long gulps, the two stood and began heading back to the beach.

* * *

Dean cuddled Emma beneath their cover. "I know that you've been trying to sort things out, but please don't ever do that to me again," he said.

"I won't," she assured him, running a hand across his face.

He pulled her closer, placing a kiss on her lips. "So _did_ you find what you were looking for?"

Emma turned her gaze to the sky, feeling incredibly grateful for the dreams that she'd had. "I finally made peace with a certain part of my past." She stroked Dean's hand. "And that's made me all the more eager to live in the present."


	7. Catching Up

**"Catching Up"**

* * *

Dean awakened in a sunlit field, vision blurry as he rose with a grunt. Tall blades of grass swayed quietly around him, forming a deep green ocean that reached up to his knees. Upon adjusting his shirt and glancing off to his left, he spotted the last person he'd ever expected to see. "Dad?" Dean blinked, squinting as he stared.

Jack McMullen wore a fascinated smile, hands rising to his hips as he looked Dean over. His loose shirt and khakis wavered in the wind.

Dean looked around, then faced Jack once more. "I've got to be dreaming."

"Something like that." Jack let out a soft chuckle.

Dean hesitated, then closed the distance between them, pulling his dad into a long, deep hug.

Jack ran a hand along Dean's back, then separated and looked his son in the eye. "So…tell me a little about Emma."

A hint of surprise appeared on Dean's face. He'd often wondered how a reunion would play out, seeing as he hadn't always made things easy on Jack.

But sure enough, in true Jack form, the first thing on his mind was Dean's happiness.

"Is she anything like your mom?"

After pausing to admire his dad for a second, Dean brushed a hand across the back of his head. "Actually, I'd say they're different in some notable ways."

"How so?" Jack wondered. "Give me a few examples."

Dean stroked his chin. "Well…Mom was cool and collected during a moment of panic. _Emma_ can be a little testy in one."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you're putting it mildly, kid."

The younger man laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

"What else can you tell me?"

Dean's gaze wandered. "Mom would comfort people by being playful…but Emma does it by getting quiet and serious. She listens to what's wrong, then tries to make things right."

Jack nodded as Dean went on. "What about when it's the other way around, and _you're_ the one listening to her?"

Dean paused to consider the question. "Emma's pretty open about what she feels inside. She notes changes, she raises questions, and she tries making progress based on what she's experienced."

Jack looked intrigued by all that he'd heard.

Dean felt a familiar warmth stirring within him. "I'm definitely glad that Emma is who she is. She and Mom may not have all that much in common, but you and I fell in love with two great women." He smiled. "Emma helped me feel more alive than I'd felt before meeting her."

Upon hearing that, Jack began eyeing Dean with a bittersweet smile. "I'm certainly glad that you've found someone you can bond with, son."

Dean froze as Jack's statement sank in. He detected a hint of envy in his father's tone. "Listen. Dad…" Dean shyly looked away. "I made a mistake after Mom died. I shut a lot of people out — including you."

Jack shook his head. "You don't have to say that."

"I actually do. Look, I hope you know that none of that was your fault." He lowered his gaze, and his voice. "You're a great father."

Jack's face softened in appreciation, and his lips rose in a modest grin.

"I'd tell you that for real if I could right now…but I guess that this is as close as I'm going to come." Dean folded his arms, and fell briefly quiet. "I know I acted like I didn't care about anyone or anything half the time, but those weren't my 'real feelings' — for lack of a less cheesy term."

Jack laughed and began stepping forward. "Deep down, I think you know that I was aware of your 'real feelings.' You certainly dropped a hint when you talked about coming to work with me."

"You think that would've been any fun?"

He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "With you and me teaming up, I know it would've."

Dean let himself smile, then looked up at his dad.

The elder man fell silent, eyeing Dean proudly. "Anyway, son, it's about time for me to go now."

"Why?"

"Because someone's coming for you right this moment — someone else who loves you a lot." Jack extended an arm and shook Dean's hand. "It seems I owe her a good deal of gratitude, and if I can't voice it in this life, then I will in the next." Jack quieted, then squeezed Dean's palm again. "Take care, Dean. Always."

"You too, Dad," Dean whispered. "You too."

* * *

"Dean?" The voice paused. " _Dean_ …"

As his eyes fluttered open, Dean saw the silhouette of a familiar figure kneeling over him in the field. Seconds later, Emma's features became clear as she blocked out the sun.

A relieved breath escaped her mouth. "You okay?" she asked.

He slowly nodded as his surroundings sank in.

"See? I told you not to try mixing all those berries into that little juice of yours." She rolled her eyes and laughed. "You started walking around like you were half-drunk or something."

Dean groaned, pulling himself up.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he said, taking her hand as she helped him rise. "I'm actually feeling just fine now."

* * *

Emma sat beside Dean near the fire, listening as he told her the end of his story. "It's amazing that we've both had dreams like that lately," she said.

"I know. I mean, I've dreamed of my dad before, but I never really got to talk to him the way I did this time."

Emma leaned against him, flashing one of her calm, inviting smiles. "I'm glad."

Dean hugged her back, then looked up at the sky. "Me too."


	8. The Raft

**"The Raft"**

* * *

Dean rushed to keep up as Emma led him through the woods. He'd rarely seen her so energized. Upon spotting the source of her excitement, however, he wasn't sure whether to be thrilled himself.

A number of old, splintered logs were laying scattered in a creek. Waves of mist hovered over the scene.

Emma turned around with a hopeful stare. "That rope we found. Do you still have it?"

Dean studied the logs, then slowly nodded. "Yeah…" he muttered. "I think so."

She hopped in place, then wrapped her arms around him. "I can't believe it. We can make a raft."

Dean lifted an eyebrow. "You've got to be kidding me. With those things?"

"Why not?"

He shook his head. "Do you think it's even safe to touch them? I mean, they might be crawling with something infectious."

Emma's face twisted into a cute little frown. "It doesn't look that way. But we can wrap our hands in some vines or leaves, and put some covering on the raft as well."

"All right. Let's say we _can_ build this thing. What then?"

Emma turned away and fell silent for a moment. "I honestly don't know yet," she admitted with a smile. "I guess I'm still working on that part."

Dean chuckled, spreading his arms. "Where exactly are we supposed to go?"

Emma placed her hands on her hips. "All right. Let's review our options."

"Yes. Let's do that."

"We obviously can't reach Trinidad."

"Or America."

"Or anyplace else on a raft. I wouldn't even know which direction to paddle." She paused. "But if we're lucky…" Emma quieted while considering her next words.

"If we're lucky…" he repeated.

A hint of doubt entered her tone. "Well, we might run across a boat or something."

Dean flinched, eyeing her in confusion.

She glanced away with an awkward frown.

"Em, we haven't seen anything like that in three years. No boats, no planes, no helicopters, nothing." He looked around with a sullen gaze. "It's like we're in some uncharted area that the rest of the world doesn't care about."

"I know that our chances are slim…" She leaned forth, eyeing him with affection. "But we've got to try, don't we?"

Dean went quiet while eyeing the logs.

"Don't we?"

He ran both hands across his face, then shook his head with a sigh. "All right. Let's give it a try." He shrugged. "If I don't help, you'll just go and escape on your own anyway."

She squinted at him. "I would not."

"Sure you would." Dean wrapped his arms around her. "I'd wake up one morning and find a 'Goodbye and good luck' note or something." He chuckled again.

Emma narrowed her eyes while pulling him closer. "Don't even joke about things like that." She held Dean in another embrace. "There's no way I'm ever leaving this island without you."

* * *

After carrying the logs down to the beach, Dean and Emma got a good night's rest. The next morning, they began their work.

Emma's hair was pulled into a loose ponytail. She sat across from Dean while tying a knot. "I keep thinking, 'If only we'd found these sooner,' you know?"

Dean nodded while examining his progress.

She sighed. "Instead, we wasted three years of our lives here." Emma immediately regretted her choice of words. She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked over at Dean. "Hey. You know what I meant by that, right? I wasn't saying that living here with _you_ was a waste, I just wish that we could've built this relationship back in the city."

"I know what you meant." He offered her a calm smile.

Emma grinned back, watching him to ensure that everything was all right. Then she lowered her gaze back to the ropes.

* * *

Dean and Emma couldn't help but laugh at their creation.

Several of the logs were longer than others, and the ropes were a jumble of awkward knots. It wasn't the prettiest raft in the world, but it did what it was meant to do: it floated.

A wave of awe crossed Emma's face. "I'd given up. I honestly thought that we'd never leave."

Dean smiled while rubbing the back of his head. "I thought that too." The moment was almost surreal for him. He couldn't help but feel a little conflicted, but he was more excited than anything else. He reached out and held Emma's hand.

Emma looked over her shoulder. "I want to visit my favorite places one last time," she said, hoping that it really would be her last time doing so.

* * *

After gathering as much food as they could fit on the raft, Emma and Dean were all set to depart. They watched their vehicle bob by the shore, then paused before turning themselves around.

A breeze ruffled their hair as they stood side by side, quietly watching the place before them.

Dean looked about, eyeing the island with affection. "I know that things haven't always been easy, but I'll never regret the fact that we came here, Em. If we hadn't, I might have never gotten to know you."

Emma quivered a little at the thought of that. She frowned while flashing an awkward smile. "I can't even imagine not having you in my life."

Dean and Emma drew each other close, sharing a deep kiss as a burst of water rose behind them.

* * *

Nearly an hour into their voyage, Emma noticed the latest in a series of waves. "Incoming," she said, bracing herself.

The force rocked the raft, picking it up and throwing it down with a violent shake.

Emma took a deep breath, letting it out through her nose. Her nervous eyes glanced back and forth.

Upon noticing her tension, Dean grinned at Emma and tried to lighten the mood. "What do you think our official status is?" He shrugged. "I mean, how does the government handle things when someone comes back from the 'dead?' "

Emma looked a little curious herself. "I'm not too sure at this point." Her thoughts began wandering elsewhere. "Do you think the world's gone through any big changes?"

"Probably. Without us, I imagine that they're barely keeping everything together."

Emma giggled, staring at him in silence.

"What?" he asked.

"You're going to be a great addition to the Robinson family. Some of my relatives are going to love you." She glanced elsewhere. "But in all seriousness, I was talking about innovations. I wonder if there are any big advancements now."

He smiled. "What, like _The Jetsons_ or something?"

Emma rolled her eyes.

"I think- -" Dean paused, then pointed outward. "Whoa. Incoming."

Another powerful wave hit the raft, nearly knocking them overboard this time.

A slow frown crossed Emma's face. "They're starting to come in harder now."

Dean licked his lips, then reached out and touched her hand. "We're going to be all right."

Emma wasn't quite sure what to believe. Dean always said that when he was trying to comfort her.

"Hey." Dean flashed an excited grin. "What are you looking forward to doing most? I can't wait to play the new _Madden_ video games."

Emma glanced around, eyeing the water with caution. "From what I hear, if you've played one, you've basically played them all."

Dean flinched in surprise. "You know video games?"

She smiled a little. "Not really, but my sister does. I- -" Another wave shook their vessel — taking one of the logs with it. As a number of ropes came undone, the raft began steadily breaking apart. Emma trembled, eyeing Dean in shock. Seconds later, both were scrambling to hold their craft together.

Fish and fruit drifted across the water. More logs began scattering about.

After several minutes of failed efforts and retied knots, only about half of the raft was left intact.

Emma briefly closed her eyes. Her face became solemn as reality sunk in. "We've got to turn back around."

A rumble of thunder filled the sky, and a slow downpour began hitting the sea. Amidst a slew of rain and a series of waves, Dean and Emma paddled as hard as they could.

Around 20 minutes into their effort, Emma's eyes had become less timid, and more determined. "Come on," she said. "We're getting there."

Dean could see the island off in the distance. He took a deep breath, then paddled on.

"Keep swinging, Dean," she said, wiping the rain out of her face. "We're not losing each other. We're going to make it."

Nearly 10 minutes later, the raft's remains finally broke apart. Dean and Emma splashed into the water, and both began swimming with all their might.

"Keep going, Em," Dean said with a choke.

Emma caught her breath and cleared her throat, swinging her arms about with abandon.

The waves pushed them forward. The rain pelted their heads.

And finally, after the swim of their lives, Emma and Dean washed up on shore — the very same one that they'd first arrived on.

As they collapsed on the sand and looked up at the sky, the two reached out and held each other's hands.

* * *

Hours later, Dean and Emma were laying naked together, staring over at a distant fire.

"I don't think we can take a chance like that again," he said.

Emma held utterly quiet.

Dean frowned, then sighed a little. "Sorry, Em. I know how much you wanted to leave. I did too."

Emma shook her head. "Leaving is the last thing on my mind." She stroked Dean's hand. "I'm just glad that you're okay. I'm glad that we both are."

He placed a kiss on her head.

"It's hard to describe," she continued. "It's like a part of me still wishes that we'd left — but at the same time, I don't hate being here." Emma looked around. "After what we just went through, this place feels so familiar and safe right now."

Dean agreed while looking about himself.

"It feels like we've been welcomed home." She chuckled under her breath. "Maybe not the one that we had in mind, but still a nice one nonetheless."


	9. Time

**"Time"**

* * *

Dean crouched by the shore and watched the waves come in, fiddling with a stick as he eyed the water.

Emma glanced up from her work on a tent, studying Dean with a curious stare. He'd been mysteriously distant for a good deal of the week. She'd open discussion, and he'd hold quiet. She'd stroke his chin, and he'd look away.

For the vast majority of their time on this island, Dean had been the enthusiast, and Emma had been the brooder. Now it appeared that things were changing a little.

Emma felt her hair flutter about in the breeze. She wondered if she was becoming the new rock in this family.

It wasn't a role she'd be uncomfortable with; she'd held it a few other times in her life. Back in the city, she was always the first to wake up and get her household running. During those years, and several others, she'd learned a thing or two about taking the lead.

Now that she'd had time to adjust to this environment, she figured she could handle being a leader again if necessary.

"Em?" Dean muttered, snapping her out of her trance.

"Yeah?" she said, swinging her gaze to him.

He turned and simply watched her for a moment. "When's your next birthday?"

She flinched in surprise, then made a warm little smile. Was this the story behind the silence? Dean had forgotten when her birthday was? "In February," she replied. "And I want a Ferrari." Emma paused — and then it hit her. She frowned while thinking about the month of her birth. She couldn't figure out how far away it was.

Dean slowly pulled himself up. "What I mean is…when's February?"

Her frown held. "It's two…no, three months from now — I think." Emma touched her chin, then looked away. She had a good idea of where this discussion was headed, and it was someplace she didn't feel comfortable going.

Dean stared out at the water again. "We're beginning to lose track of time," he murmured.

Emma held quiet as his words sank in. For the past three years, they'd been counting sunsets, making marks, and seeking other ways to chronicle the length of their stay.

Now all of that appeared to be reaching an end. The process was growing tedious. Their minds were growing weary. They weren't sure how, and they weren't sure when, but at some point or another, they'd lost track of things.

Emma felt a wave of tension along her spine. A part of her wanted to dispute Dean's claim, but in her heart, she knew it was true.

After letting a quiet sigh escape her mouth, she licked her lips, and held a hand to her waist. "What now?" she whispered. "What do you think we should do?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, stroking his short brown curls.

Emma looked at the ground and shrugged. "Do you want to start counting the days again?"

Dean briefly closed his eyes. "I don't think we can keep this up forever, Em."

"Neither do I," she mumbled. "I'm asking if you want to try anyway…or if we shouldn't even bother."

Dean squinted a little while watching Emma. He detected something tense and somber in her tone, and knew that he had to tread carefully. "What do you want to do?"

After a moment of pause, Emma crouched in place and rested her wrists on her knees. She quieted while holding her stare on the sand.

Dean wondered what was going on in her mind. He walked over and knelt beside her.

"When we first showed up in this place, all I wanted to do was leave," she said.

Dean nodded while recalling that, holding quiet as he listened.

"After a while, I came to accept living here because I didn't have a choice." Emma's lips pulled into a tiny frown. "But if I stop keeping track of time, then I _am_ making a choice. It's like I'm choosing to give up on the idea of ever going back."

Dean ran his hand between her shoulders. He'd been having the very same thoughts lately.

"In the years ahead, we'll wonder how long we've been here…and we'll never know," she murmured. "The day will come when we won't even know our own ages." The thought of that made Emma shiver. It felt like she'd be giving up a huge part of her identity.

"I guess you're right," Dean mumbled. He took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. "There goes my plan."

She turned to him. "What plan?"

"I was all set to be a famous monster-truck driver at age 25," he said.

Emma looked forward again, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

"Then I was going to be an Indiana Jones-type at age 30," he continued.

She nodded, leaning back against a tree and stretching her legs.

"I would've taken up international espionage by age 35." Dean sprawled out on his side and began stroking Emma's feet. "And I probably would've settled down with the missus by age 60." He placed a loving kiss on her soft skin.

Emma folded her arms while looking upward, eyeing the clouds with a calm stare. No matter how long they were here, or how old they became, it seemed that Dean would always endeavor to cheer her up — even during those moments when she least expected him to. It didn't always matter if he succeeded; what she noticed most was the fact that he tried. Emma wriggled her toes and let herself relax, watching the boy who loved her like no one else ever had.

Dean looked up to find her staring at him. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

Emma shook her head, and looked away once more. "Three years ago, you asked why I'd bothered keeping track of time in the first place."

"And you said it was because you weren't content here."

Emma settled her stare on Dean again. She felt something warm flutter within her chest. "I'm more content now than I was back then." She closed her eyes for a moment, then slowly opened them. "So I think I'm ready to stop keeping track of time. I'm still a little disturbed by that…but not quite as much as I used to be."

* * *

Dean and Emma lay sprawled on the sand in each other's embrace, her long shirt blanketing both of them. The sun was beginning to set in the distance. Neither Emma or Dean paid much attention.

"So we're in it for the long haul…" Dean mused. "However long that may be."

Emma stared across the sand. "I think the most important thing is that we're alive, and we're together."

He ran a hand along her head. "No matter how old you get, you'll still be beautiful."

Emma grinned. "And no matter how old you get, you'll still be handsome — even when you're using a stick to help you hobble around."

"Now there's a visual I really didn't need in my head."

She giggled, then crawled up and placed a kiss on his lips. "I love you, Dean," she said while smiling at him. "Maybe I don't tell you often, but you know I do."

Dean ran his hands along her face. "I love you too."

Emma cuddled against him again, closing her eyes as she stroked Dean's chest.


	10. Hold Me

**"Hold Me"**

* * *

The plan was simple enough. Dean wanted to head off and explore a new area on his own — but Emma just wouldn't allow that to happen.

Over the past few days, the two had wound up traveling farther than they'd ever gone before. After making their way up a rocky hill, then moving down into a thick forest, the pair exited the woods and ended up on a beach.

The shore was much whiter than the one they'd arrived on. The water was a rustling ocean of blue.

Emma touched her hips and bent down a little, her ponytail flapping amidst the breeze. Their search was beginning to look painfully fruitless. They'd hoped to find something useful amidst this journey, but the trip was producing nothing at all.

After all the walking, climbing, aching, and pain, they'd found the same kind of area that they'd left behind.

Emma took a deep breath and closed her eyes, holding back a slew of colorful screams. Her face began to redden as she looked around.

Dean noticed her mood, and took his cue. It was time to try cheering her up again. After all, she'd only made this trip out of concern for him, and he couldn't help but feel guilty about that now. "Hey," he said in a friendly tone. "You know what I think we…" Dean's jaw fell open as his words trailed off. "Whoa…"

Emma caught sight of his face, then turned around. Upon seeing what he saw, her expression matched his.

A small tree house was nestled in a thick, short tree. A wooden ladder was beneath it, laying half-buried in the sand.

Emma squinted and glared, looking skeptical for a moment. As the sight before her began sinking in, her eyes widened and her lips parted.

For a few seconds, she wasn't quite sure just how to react. It seemed like they kept finding things that she wished they'd found sooner.

"You coming?" Dean asked, facing her with a smile.

Emma paused, then followed him across the sand.

* * *

They lifted the ladder and began their ascent.

Emma had a faint hope that living in the tree house would be like living in the city. If possible, she wanted it to provide the best of both worlds.

One look at the place told her to forget about that.

The building was a holey square with a slanted ceiling. Dirt and splinters were everywhere, and a small window could be seen in the back.

"Well…" Dean muttered, letting his gaze wander. "It's…it's…" He sighed, then placed a hand behind his head.

Emma found herself growing curious about its origin. She turned to Dean with a face full of questions.

"We know we're not the first people to live on this island." Dean entered the tree house and looked around. "I've got no idea when this was built, though." He stepped over to a window, and got another view of the beach. The building was positioned sideways above the sand.

"This place is so dirty," Emma said.

"It's nothing that a little water won't fix." He looked around, then flashed a grin. "Okay, maybe a lot of water."

Emma giggled, running a hand through her hair.

"I can haul some up here in that barrel we saw. I'll bet that we could have the place gleaming in about a week."

She looked about, offering no response.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbled. "It's just that if we moved in here, we'd be saying goodbye to the old beach, you know? We've had so many nice moments there. And we'd have to walk pretty far to reach the lagoon from now on."

Dean nodded, going quiet. To his surprise, he found it unsettling to bid those places farewell. He didn't know that he'd grown so attached to them.

Emma lowered her gaze to the floor. "But I guess that's how it usually goes when you move someplace new. You have to say goodbye to your old neighborhood."

He studied her with a curious stare, then reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "We don't have to do this, Em. We can just stay where we are." Dean stirred as a sudden thought came to him. "Maybe we could take this place apart, and use the pieces for another raft."

Emma winced in surprise, glancing around at the walls. "It looks pretty old," she noted. "Do you really think the pieces would hold together?"

Dean began studying the place again. Emma definitely had a point.

"How far do you think we'd make it this time?" she asked.

He folded his arms and flexed his muscles. "Only one way to find out, I guess."

Emma raised her hands to her hips, then looked at the floor. "So we can use this place to try leaving the island, or we can let it stand, and try to embrace it as home." She paused in a bit of contemplation. "And if we came to embrace _this_ place as home…we'd be doing the same for the island itself."

Dean looked a little confused. "I thought you'd already done that."

"No, what I did was _accept_ living here. I haven't embraced it. There's a difference," she mused.

Dean paused to consider that. From what he could tell, Emma was happy most of the time, but she still wished that they could leave. The full transformation from city girl to jungle girl was something that hadn't quite happened yet.

Though Dean was a bit more content than she was, he knew that he wouldn't mind leaving either. He looked her over, then raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to try building this raft?"

Emma slowly shook her head. "We both know it won't work."

Dean's confusion grew a little. "So you're choosing to stay."

"I'm choosing to survive. The way I figure it, we've got two options here: we can go out on a raft — and probably die this time — or we can stay right here, and let life go on." Emma took Dean's hands in hers. "I think we should choose the latter."

* * *

After a week of cleaning and decorating their tree house, Emma and Dean officially moved in. A number of ornaments were hung about, and the word _welcome_ was etched on the entrance floor.

Emma smiled while admiring the place, knowing that she and Dean would build some new memories here.

Once night had fallen, a beach party began.

Emma danced before a fire with a playful look. A flower crown rested upon her head, and a thick lei was dangling around her neck.

Dean rested on his side while eyeing the scene, grinning as Emma shook her hips. He erupted in applause as the performance ended, shaking his head in adoration.

Emma crouched down and held Dean's face, then placed a long kiss upon his lips.

* * *

The next morning, Dean prepared to embark on a private journey. The trip was expected to take a few days.

Unlike their recent trek together, Dean was heading someplace familiar this time. However, that didn't do much to brighten Emma's mood. "Are you sure about this?" she mumbled.

Dean nodded, tying a strap around his forehead. "Once I get this wood, we can keep the fires going a little longer. It's convenient for cooking." He leaned toward her and raised an eyebrow. "And it means I get to watch more of my favorite show as well."

While Dean was away, Emma would be gathering up food for a nice, big feast. Ultimately, they'd decided that it was best for them to split up on this endeavor. It would save time.

Dean didn't know why she was taking this so hard. It wasn't his first expedition, and it wouldn't be his last.

She looked him over, then lowered her gaze to the sand. "Whenever you go off on these little missions…" Emma paused, lifting her eyebrows. "I guess I still worry that I'll never see you again."

Dean touched her chin, then offered a smile. "I'll be back in a few days," he promised.

Emma nodded, still looking away.

* * *

An orange hue had spread along the beach, and the sun was descending over the distant waters.

Emma carried a bundle of pineapples across the sand, a dark silhouette against the gold horizon. She let the fruit fall amidst a pile she'd amassed, then crouched beside it while taking a breather.

Dean's absence was affecting her in the usual ways. The first day was always the easiest to bear. Rather than longing for him, she embraced the change; even the truest lovers could use some time on their own. The experience also brought her a sense of pride. She liked knowing that she could take care of herself.

Emma chuckled, then sprawled out on her back, spreading her arms as she looked to the sky.

* * *

Day two was when the loneliness began to arrive. As the sun began making its descent again, Emma stared downward while playing with the sand. The beach seemed so spacious — and so utterly quiet.

Unlike Dean, Emma had never been a loner. Isolation was one of her biggest fears. It was why she'd always been quick to surround herself with friends, even ones who she didn't have much in common with.

In addition to feeling lonely, she also felt worried. She was beginning to wonder if Dean was all right.

Once night arrived, Emma stripped off her clothes and cuddled up in a cover, touching herself in all the places that Dean usually did.

* * *

Dean looked up at the stars while sitting by a fire.

Whenever he got some time on his own, he was always reminded of his life in the city. Back then, he could spend days, weeks, or even months by himself. He'd lived in a shell while shutting out the world, seeing little value in interacting with others.

However, once he'd found Emma, he'd found his heart as well — and it was resting squarely within her hands. He still liked being alone sometimes, but he didn't like being that way for too long.

Dean threw a somber look at the stars. He put the fire out, then went to sleep.

* * *

Day three had arrived, and Emma was deeply sullen. Another sunset was looming before her. The area had been largely quiet all day.

She sat cross-legged by the shore, watching the waves with somber eyes.

"Hey," called a voice behind her back.

Emma shook a little, and her face lit up. She turned and saw Dean striding across the beach. A pile of firewood was laid out behind him.

Emma charged across the sand and threw her arms around Dean, smiling brightly as she closed her eyes.

Dean hugged her back, and ran a hand through her hair. "I missed you so much, Em," he said.

* * *

"Hold me," Emma whispered, nuzzling her unclothed body against Dean's. She glanced out the window of their new tree house, letting her gaze drift up to the stars.

Dean snuggled Emma beneath the cover, nestling her back against his bare chest.

Emma smiled and closed her eyes, resting her hand over his.


	11. Everlasting Love

**"Everlasting Love"**

* * *

Emma cuddled up against Dean in the forest, sporting her bikini and a thick ponytail. Dean stroked her back while looking up at the trees, wearing nothing more than his pair of shorts.

Though neither of them knew it, five years had passed since they'd arrived on the island.

Dean noticed changes while watching Emma these days. Her face was more womanly — more regal and mature. Emma's arms and shoulders had grown a little as well; Dean wasn't the only athlete in their family anymore.

Emma held Dean's hand while looking down at his ring, then settled her gaze on the high, green leaves. "Sometimes I wonder if my parents are still married," she said. Emma quieted, running her tongue across her lips. "I certainly hope that they are…but I'm never too sure."

"Why wouldn't they be?" he asked her softly.

Emma frowned a second. "After my mom's affair, I always wondered if she and my dad were really meant to be," she admitted. "I mean…sometimes you just question if certain couples belong together, you know?"

Dean squeezed her hand. "And sometimes there's no doubt that they do." He grinned.

Emma smiled back, brushing a hand over his chest.

"I think that your parents are just fine. From what you've told me, it sounds like they love each other a lot."

Emma went quiet while pondering that. She let her curious eyes wander, then spoke up again. "Dean?" she mumbled. "Why do you think people divorce? Why do you think relationships fall apart?"

Dean looked off and shrugged. " 'Irreconcilable differences,' I suppose."

Emma rolled her eyes. "I'm not asking for the formal term, I'm asking for your opinion."

He shook his head a little. "There are probably a lot of different reasons, Em. I guess the bottom line is that some people stop feeling happy, or they stop feeling loved…or, possibly, a little of both," he figured.

"But why do you think that is?"

"Life throws challenges at everyone, I guess. And sometimes those challenges drive people apart."

Emma glanced around at the island, recalling the day they'd arrived. "I'd say life threw a pretty big challenge our way — but instead of driving us apart, it brought us together."

Dean shrugged again. "Maybe more couples need to get stuck on an island. Perhaps that's the key to a lasting relationship."

Emma laughed, wrapping her arms around him. Then she paused for a moment as a thought came to her. "What if we'd left this place several years ago?" She narrowed her eyes and made a suspicious smile. "Do you think anything between us would be different right now?"

He flinched, looking a bit surprised. "Are you asking if we would've stayed together back in civilization?"

"That's not what I meant. I definitely think that we would've."

Dean nodded slowly. "I do too." He glanced away and lifted his eyebrows. "But if we had left at some point, and we'd started drifting apart afterward…I guess I would've just dragged you back here."

Emma wore an amused stare. "And then what?" she wondered. "How would we go about fixing things?"

"We'd start with a romantic tour of all your favorite places."

Her thoughts drifted to the heart of the island. "The first stop on my list would be the blue lagoon."

Dean grinned. That was the first place he'd want to visit too. "Then it's settled," he announced. "If we ever get rescued, and we begin drifting apart, we'll make a return to the blue lagoon."

Emma found herself chuckling under her breath.

"But we wouldn't have to worry about that," he continued, "because I know we'd still make it as a couple if we left this island."

"No irreconcilable differences?" she teased.

"You and I have several 'differences,' Em," he acknowledged. "But to this day, we're still in love."

"Why is that?" Emma folded her arms and smiled. "How do you love me? Count the ways."

Dean brushed a hand through her hair. "First, you're willing to listen when I need someone to talk to. Besides that, you've got this habit of doing and saying things that put me in a good mood." He paused, then gave her an affectionate squeeze. "And you've got these little quirks that I get a kick out of. I noticed that the very first day we got here." He smiled while thinking of her charming little tantrums, her humorous habits, and her unwavering support whenever things got serious.

Emma beamed in silence.

"I love you because you make me happy," he said.

Emma reached up and stroked Dean's chin. "All of the reasons that you love me, sound a lot like the reasons that I love you." She looked him over. "It's been that way between us for quite a while. Do you think we could keep it that way for even longer?"

"I do," Dean said with a confident grin.

Emma returned his expression. "Then I think we have the keys to a lasting love."


	12. Love Song

**"Love Song"**

* * *

A wild thunderstorm had swept over the island. Trees swayed quietly beneath the loud gray sky.

Emma stood alone within her and Dean's tree house, staring out of the window with a tense expression. She held her gaze on a murky forest, searching the grounds for any sign of Dean.

Around 15 minutes into the storm, he rushed out of the woods and charged across the sand.

Emma paused in relief, then headed toward the door.

After scaling the ladder and coming inside, Dean dropped a pack of food bundled up in a cloth.

Emma helped him remove his clothes, then wrapped him up in one of the covers they'd found.

She crouched with Dean and held his hands, sitting cross-legged as she smiled at him.

Dean grinned back, holding quiet for a moment.

A rumble of thunder spread across the sky. Rain fell steadily along the grounds.

Emma glanced at the window, then turned back to Dean. A thought entered her mind, and she let herself chuckle.

"What?" he whispered.

She looked aside, brushing a hand through her hair. "Once upon a time, this was my idea of a romantic day," she recalled. "Back in the city, I used to fantasize about cuddling with someone during a storm, and listening to love songs all afternoon."

Dean eyed her playfully. "Any songs in particular? What's your favorite?"

Her gaze drifted upward. "I've always liked 'I Could Not Ask For More,' by Edwin McCain," she revealed.

Dean wore a curious frown. "Is that even a love song?" A quick memory came to him. "I mean, I know they played it during that movie…" He paused while trying to remember the title. " _Message in a Bottle_. They played it during the credits, I think."

Emma flinched in surprise. Her lips rose in a slow smile, and a flutter of excitement filled her heart. For once, it sounded like she and Dean were fond of the same film. "You saw that?"

"My parents did. I was just passing through the room." He winked at her. "Sorry to disappoint you."

She rolled her eyes, nodding a little.

"So why is that song your favorite?"

Emma quieted, then looked down at her lap. Her face grew a bit more sullen as she spoke. "I like it for different reasons now than I did when I was younger." She held her eyes on her twiddling fingers. "You know what I mean, right? I've got a different perception of it these days."

Dean looked a little curious again. "What was your perception before?"

She ran a finger over her chin. "I'm the kind of girl who used to have everything planned out — my day, my week, my whole future even. When I heard the lyrics in that song, about every prayer being answered, and every dream coming true…I always imagined living my fantasy life." Emma paused again. "So, I used to tell myself that I'd play the song in private one day, when I had a loving husband, a successful career, and everything else that I'd planned on having."

Dean studied her, then looked away. For a moment, he wondered if Emma was still longing for things that he couldn't give her.

"But like I said, that was my old perception," she noted. "I used to view it as a song about success…" She reached over and touched Dean's chin. "But now I view it as a song about satisfaction."

Dean's face stirred in surprise. "How come?" he asked.

"Because it doesn't make me wishful anymore. It just reminds me of how happy I am with where I've ended up." Emma smiled while recalling the chorus. "Our moments do make me grateful to be alive, and I know I'll remember them all my life," she affirmed. "Right now, I really couldn't ask for more, because I'm not longing for anything."

Dean stroked Emma's hand, then kissed her fingers.

"So what's your favorite?" She flashed an energetic grin.

He winced a little, then found his gaze wandering elsewhere. "My mom used to listen to this song — 'A House Is Not A Home,' by Luther Vandross. I think he did a cover."

Emma nodded.

"It always sounded nice and all, but I guess I never really connected with it in those days." He turned back to her. "But after all the time we've spent together…I think I can relate to that song a bit more now. I think I get the essence."

"Why?" she asked, looking a bit playful.

Dean chuckled. "Isn't it obvious, Em? This island didn't feel like a home when we got here. And I know it wouldn't feel that way if I was alone." He looked into her eyes. "But we made it one, because we fell in love."

She stroked his wrists and held his hands again. "I think I already knew what your answer would be. I guess I just wanted to hear you say it." Emma loved Dean's affectionate side. By now, she simply enjoyed hearing the romantic comments and the comforting words.

Dean rolled his shoulders a little. "So then…" he said. "You've got your favorite. I've got mine. Name a tune that we both could enjoy." He eyed her teasingly. "What's a fitting song for our relationship?"

Emma looked off and raised an eyebrow. "Maybe a song about a high-strung girl who drives a boy nuts."

Dean shrugged. "Or a song about a goofy guy who does that to a girl."

Emma's eyes softened a bit. She lowered her voice and stroked his hands. "Let's go with a song about two people who began finding their home after they found each other."

Dean interlocked his fingers with hers. "Sounds about right to me."


	13. Parenthood

**"Parenthood"**

* * *

Dean snuggled with Emma on the floor of their tree house, holding her close within the cloud of darkness. "You okay?" he whispered.

"I'm fine," she replied.

Dean had reason to believe otherwise. "It's just…earlier today, I saw you holding your stomach."

"It's nothing," she assured him, letting her eyes flutter closed. "I think it was just something I ate."

He hesitated, licking his lips. "You don't think you're pregnant, do you?"

Emma opened her eyes, holding her stare on the wall. She detected a familiar hint of tension within Dean's question. It almost sounded like he wanted the answer to be _no_.

Getting him to talk about parenthood was rather difficult these days. He generally opted to keep his feelings well-hidden.

"I mean, I know that we've had scares before," he noted. "But maybe this time…" Dean paused, realizing he'd tipped his hand. Without meaning to, he'd just revealed where he stood on the matter.

"Scares?" Emma asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well…what I meant was…" He fidgeted, feeling quite awkward all of a sudden.

Emma made a suspicious smile, letting her gaze rise to the ceiling. "Are you afraid to become a father?"

Dean looked away and went quiet. Before long, he began searching for something else to discuss.

"A few years ago, you told me that you were okay with having a child." She turned to him and touched his chin. "What's changed?"

He sighed, and his voice shifted into a more somber tone. "I guess I've had more time to think about all this now."

Emma's confusion grew a little.

"Don't get me wrong, Em," he mumbled. "It's not like I hate the thought of having a kid with you." Dean paused while recalling the worst day of his life. "I just know how much it'll hurt when our kid loses us someday."

Emma let her gaze drift elsewhere. She ran a hand along his chest, and spoke in a very soft tone. "I understand how you feel," she said, recalling something she'd been told long ago. "I think it's important to remember that losing a parent isn't saying _goodbye_ , it's simply a temporary parting of ways. You're going to see them again in the afterlife one day. In the meantime, you go on loving the people who are still with you."

"But that's the thing. Our child wouldn't have anyone else…unless they ever got rescued."

Emma stared out at the stars for a moment. "Maybe we're looking too far ahead. Let's focus on something more immediate."

"Like?"

"Let's talk about what kind of parent you'd be," she said.

Dean flinched, then made a small nod. "All right."

Emma turned to him with a teasing grin. "I'd say I know Dean McMullen pretty well by now…but my fascination continues to grow. I've seen the loner. I've seen the lover. Next, I think I'd like to see the father."

He chuckled. "Don't be so sure about that."

"You've got all the right qualities. You're hard-working, you're playful, and you always try cheering someone up when they're feeling down." She eyed him proudly, then nodded a little. "You really would make a good dad."

Dean wore a shy smile. "I'm sure it's not quite as simple as you're making it sound…but thanks." His stare became a little more curious. "What kind of parent do you think _you'd_ make?"

Emma's grin began to shrink a little. After a bit of hesitation, she rolled onto her back and averted her gaze. "I can't say I'm mommy material. I think I'd be too negative around a child."

He lifted an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "I'll have to respectfully and wholeheartedly disagree. I think you'd be a positive presence."

"Maybe at first…" she muttered. "But sooner or later, I know I'd start telling our kid stories about life in the city, about all the things we could do if we were actually there — and then I'd start longing to leave the island all over again."

A bit of silence lingered between them. Dean wanted to disagree with Emma's prediction about herself.

To his surprise, he found that he couldn't.

"Then I'd get all angry and frustrated every time we failed, just like I used to," she mumbled.

He shook his head, clearly disagreeing with her assessment this time.

"And then our kid would start to see that darker side of me, the side that I don't like showing." She eyed the ceiling placidly. "And that would lead me to feel like a failure as a mom."

Dean stared, then moved a little closer to Emma. "You're selling yourself way too short. It definitely wouldn't play out like that. You can tear yourself down all you want, Em. It won't change the fact that you're the most sensitive, responsible, and loving girl I've ever met." He shook his head in adoration. "If _you_ wouldn't make a great mom, then I don't know who would."

Emma gradually found herself smiling. Once again, she appreciated Dean's efforts to comfort her.

Dean looked to the ceiling himself, and let out a sigh. "Parenthood," he muttered. "Sounds like quite an experience."

Emma reached down and held hands with him. "Do you think it's an experience that we'll ever have?"

Dean let himself grin. "Maybe someday," he answered. "Hopefully when we're ready."


	14. Forever and Ever

**"Forever and Ever"**

* * *

Emma and Dean roamed about in their tree house, removing old ornaments and stringing up new ones.

Emma looked over her shoulder, then turned back to her work. "Do you ever feel bored from day to day?"

Dean winced, then turned around in surprise. "Do you?"

After a moment's pause, Emma shook her head. "Not really," she said pleasantly. "I guess a part of me figures that I _should_ be, you know? After all, it's just us here." She narrowed her eyes and made a teasing grin. "And it's not like you and I have any character flaws or layers or anything like that. We're a couple of pretty dull people, aren't we?"

"The dullest of the dull."

"And we're leading a pretty routine life on this island, right?"

"That we are."

"It's the same thing day after day, week after week…year after year." Her voice quieted a tad. "And yet, I find that I'm actually still having fun here."

Dean smiled, feeling something warm within.

"I still like swimming around the ocean, sledding down the hills, sliding into the pools, and camping out at night." Emma quieted as a realization came to her. "I used to simply accept this place as my home, but I think I've begun to embrace it now."

Dean studied her with a calm affection. "When did that happen?"

She giggled, easing back against a wall. "I'm not even sure."

A bit of silence lingered between them.

Emma licked her lips and looked upward. "I mean, I love this island…but I still want to leave."

Dean nodded, speaking softly. "I think I pretty much feel the same," he admitted. He folded his arms, letting his gaze drop to the floor. "Do you think that'll ever change?"

She squinted, looking a little confused.

"Do you think the day might come when we _won't_ want to leave?" Dean wondered. "How long do you figure it would take? 20 years?"

Emma paused to think about it, then shook her head slowly.

"30?"

She glanced away, lifting her hands to her hips. "We'd both be over 50 years old by then." Emma made a brave little smile as that number sank in, knowing she'd actually hit that age someday. She liked her youth, but she wasn't the type of person who was afraid of getting older — and falling in love had only strengthened her courage. But Dean hadn't asked if she was afraid to get old. He'd asked how long it would take for them to shun civilization. "No," she muttered. "I think we'd still be open to leaving at age 50."

Dean shrugged. "How about when we're _60_ , then?"

Emma chuckled, closing her eyes.

"70?" He took her into his arms and began a slow dance. "I can see it now. We'll hobble up to the shore on our canes and say, 'Ah, screw the outside world. We're home.' "

Emma leaned in closer, watching Dean with a gentle smile. Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. "I've never loved anyone the way that I love you."

A rumble of thunder arrived, and a slow downpour followed.

Emma looked outside, then turned back to him. "Come on," she said, pulling his shirt over his head.

"What are we doing? Where are we going?"

Once all of their clothes had been removed, Emma and Dean stepped onto the beach and continued their dance in the rain. The pair held hands while swaying back and forth, grinning as they looked each other in the eye.

"Know what, Mr. McMullen?" Emma beamed. "Whether we stay on this island, or we manage to leave, I know that there's one thing for sure I can count on."

"And what's that?"

"You and I are going to be together forever and ever."

* * *

The next morning, Emma and Dean walked onto the beach hand in hand. A wave of sunlight welcomed them.

Upon looking outward, the pair saw something that they hadn't seen in over five years. They saw a ship, holding still in the distance.

Dean and Emma froze in their tracks.

The vessel was quite far from where the couple stood — almost as far as they were when they'd first spotted the island. It appeared to be in the area momentarily. The ship looked like it could depart at any moment.

Emma and Dean eyed each other in awe, then looked forward again while standing side by side. Both wondered if they could reach it before it left.


	15. Home Sweet Home

**"Home Sweet Home"**

* * *

Emma flung her shirt open and slipped it off her shoulders, tightening her hair up in a quick ponytail.

Dean pulled upward and bared his chest, his muscles flowing within the sun.

With arms outstretched, both dove into the water and pressed toward the vessel.

A number of fantasies rushed through Emma's head, things she hadn't dared to dream of for quite some time. For just a moment, she imagined seeing how much her sister had grown, hearing her dad's corny jokes again, and bonding with her mother, woman to woman.

Her eyes narrowed, and she sped past Dean, stare locked forward as she flailed about.

Dean rushed to keep up while cheering her on.

Emma swung her arms with all of her might…

And then the last thing happened that they wanted to happen: the ship stirred, and began to move.

Both of them tensed, and increased their speed.

While Emma pushed herself forward with thoughts of success, her companion was driven by a fear of failure.

Dean was the type of person who kept pain bottled up. He remembered his losses more than his wins. He'd missed the game-winning goal in 6th grade soccer. He'd lost a class spelling bee to his biggest rival. He'd failed his driver's test twice with mediocre results. And he knew that if he failed in this chase today, he'd be feeling the pain for a long time to come. Even worse, he knew that Emma would.

Digging deep within himself, Dean swam as fast as he was capable of swimming.

But the ship moved faster, and began fading from sight. Its distance grew larger. Its size grew smaller.

Another minute went by.

Another followed after that.

The vessel could barely be seen anymore.

And after several more minutes of swinging and thrashing, Emma quietly relented, and drew to a stop.

She closed her eyes, then opened them up, a look of calm acceptance adorning her face. Her chin bobbed slowly along the surface, strands of hair sticking to the sides of her head.

Dean studied Emma in stark confusion, then left her behind while pressing forward. He spent the next few moments chasing after the vehicle, trying to draw attention with his arms and his voice.

The vessel gradually faded from sight — but Dean carried on, refusing to concede.

His arms became heavy. His lungs became weary. And slowly but surely, his body dragged to a halt.

Long, deep breaths flowed out of his mouth — and a wave of frustration overtook his face. He swung his arms down and pounded the water, then paused a moment to stew in silence.

Several thoughts came to him as he watched the horizon, but one in particular was standing out: the ship hadn't even come close to the island. It had passed on by as though the island wasn't here.

Dean searched for reasons, and arrived at one: for the vessel's crew, this was a meaningless place, an uncharted area where animals lived.

And even though Dean didn't want to believe it, he figured that other crews would view it that way as well — assuming another ship even appeared.

Five years earlier, a helicopter had departed and was never seen again. There was no sign that things would be different in this case.

A hand touched his shoulder, interrupting his thoughts.

Emma leaned in close, holding her head against his. "Come on," she whispered.

After throwing one last look at the empty horizon, Dean turned and followed her back to the shore.

* * *

Emma wandered through the woods with curious eyes, searching for signs of her missing companion. She knew Dean's nature pretty well by now. An unannounced absence meant one of two things: he was planning a surprise, or he was upset about something.

She had a good idea of what the reason was this time.

Upon reaching an opening, Emma came to a stop.

Dean was sitting on the ground beside a low tree stump, holding utterly quiet, and utterly still. His arms were crossed atop the smooth brown surface, and his head was sagging as he eyed his hands.

Emma squinted a little at the sight before her. Dean seemed so despondent, so incredibly sullen. It was a side of him she used to see in school — the side that wallowed in darkness and shunned all light.

She'd slain that dragon several years ago. She didn't mind a little moping when he really needed it, but she couldn't watch him fall into darkness again.

Brushing back a strand of her long ponytail, Emma crossed the ground and approached her partner.

A number of birds chirped quietly above them. Loose green leaves floated across the air.

Dean eyed the stump while letting his head hang low. He kept his gaze down amidst her arrival.

Emma sat across from him and propped her head against his, keeping her stare pointed downward as well.

Dean smiled a little, but held silent.

"The way I see it, we've got two options here." Emma sat up and faced him. "We can quietly sulk about that ship all day…" She made a sensitive face while stroking his chin. "Or we can do what we do, and try talking about it."

Dean circled a finger along the stump. "I'm not sulking."

"Then why are you so quiet?" She leaned her head to the side and offered one of her friendliest tones. "Come on. Let's talk about what happened."

Dean frowned and shrugged. "I don't really want to."

"Sorry, man…" She lifted his ring finger. "You're under an oath to love, honor, and obey me."

He let out a chuckle, nodding to himself.

Emma sat still, waiting patiently.

"Okay," he sighed with a hint of pep in his voice. "Let's talk about the ship."

She let her hand linger on his. "I hate seeing you this depressed."

"I'm not," Dean insisted, settling his stare on a tree. "I know it seems like I am…but I'm not exactly sad that we're still here."

Emma squinted. "Then I repeat: why are you so quiet?"

He faced her with a frown. "Because a part of me really, really wanted to reach that boat. I know how happy it would've made you if we'd gotten rescued."

A wave of surprise swept over her face. Dean seemed to think that he'd failed her somehow.

Emma found that revelation a little disturbing. She didn't want him saddened on her account. "It's okay," she said, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm fine. It's not the first time we've failed to leave this place." Emma looked away and lowered her voice, feeling surprised by what she said next. "I think I'm beyond the point of getting angry about it."

Dean studied her face, recalling the past few years. Every time they failed to get off this island, Emma reacted a little differently, it seemed. Her temper had risen up a hill during the first few failures…then made a descent during the ones that followed.

With the SOS signs, she was merely frustrated. With the plane and the helicopter, she'd thrown a fit. When the raft broke apart, she'd been disappointed.

And with the ship today, she was perfectly calm.

Dean smiled a little. "I admire how you're handling all of this, Em."

She lifted her shoulders, and wore a modest expression.

"Maybe another ship will come along someday." Dean tried feeling hopeful, but couldn't do so for long. He recalled how long it had taken just for one to appear.

"I don't think it would matter," Emma mumbled. "There's too much distance between them and us. We couldn't even come close to catching that boat."

Dean looked away. He'd been thinking the same thing, but hadn't wanted to say it. Even though he knew how strong she'd become, he still tried being as sensitive as he could.

Emma interlocked her fingers beneath her chin, holding quiet for a full minute as she watched the stump. "I've never believed in accepting a life that doesn't make you happy. The thing is, this life does make me happy. I've just been slow to embrace it for a couple of reasons.

"One: it's not the kind of happiness that I ever imagined…" She looked about, simply studying the island. "And two: all of this happiness has come at a cost." Emma thought of their families and the lives they'd left behind.

"I know," Dean agreed. And then he recalled something from long ago. "Someone once told me that happiness tends to involve sacrifice."

"But that sacrifice is supposed to be a choice — you're supposed to sacrifice something willingly in order to be happy. That's how it works for people who leave their loved ones in order to chase their dreams. Or shun their dreams to be with the people they love. Or deny themselves rest so they can work toward their goal." Emma's face became blank and calm. "I didn't choose to give up the life I had in the city. It just ended one day, and I had a new one instead."

Dean didn't know what to say at this point. It was hard to gauge Emma's current mood.

Then he noticed her eyeing him, very closely.

"I never made a choice back then, but I would make a choice now." Emma lifted her eyebrows, watching him sweetly. "Earlier today, I asked myself a question: If somehow I was rescued, and you were still here…would I come back to the island to be with you again — even if it meant staying here for good?" She looked him straight in the eye. "And the answer was yes, I would."

Dean quivered. He felt more touched by those words than by anything she'd said in a while. "Why?" he asked softly.

Emma's gaze softened with more affection. "Because my life is with you now, Dean, wherever you are."

Dean wore a shaky smile, trying to hide the tear that was welling up. He licked his lips, took a breath, and ran a hand through Emma's long blonde hair. "I'd give everything up to be with you too."

Emma beamed, knowing he meant it. Their rings glistened amidst a wave of sunlight.

"As long as we're coming up with scenarios like that…" Dean made a sly grin. "Say we left the island right now. What's the first thing that we'd do together?"

She let her gaze wander off. "I don't know," she sighed. Seconds later, Emma turned back to Dean, speaking just above a whisper. "Truth be told, I don't really want to fantasize about that sort of thing anymore."

Dean squinted. "About what sort of thing?"

"Going back to the city…back to civilization," she muttered.

A hint of surprise swept over his face. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to keep longing for something that simply isn't going to happen. If we can't leave by boat, by raft, or by helicopter, then I think the reality of our situation is pretty clear by now." Emma paused, summoning her courage. And then, she brought herself to say something she'd never said before. "We really are going to be on this island for the rest of our lives."

Dean opened his mouth, holding his stare on her. He searched his mind for a proper response.

Emma held quiet, looking back.

After a long moment of silence and consideration, Dean realized that there was only one thing he could say. "I love you."

Emma took his hand, then nodded slowly. "I love you too."

* * *

Dean and Emma sprawled out on a hilltop, laying side by side in a huge green valley.

Part of her hair was pulled back in a clip, the rest of it hanging down her shoulders. It was the same look that she'd sported on a day long ago, when they'd stood by the ocean, shouting out for help. She stroked her brow while thinking back on that moment.

"You look pretty," Dean said with a playful stare. "Seriously. You always look so beautiful with your hair like that."

Emma wore a smug face, as though she was offended. "Only with my hair like this?"

Dean flinched. "No. You're beautiful no matter what you…" He paused, then flashed a knowing grin. "You like doing that, don't you? You like making me say things that you want to hear."

She giggled, holding Dean's hand as she looked upward.

Dean thought back to their earlier discussion. "You're one of the most introspective, sympathetic people I've ever met."

Emma lifted her eyebrows and smiled. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. McMullen."

"Good to know. But I mean it. You're pretty in-touch with your own feelings — and you're always sensitive to mine as well." He squeezed her hand as a more distant memory came to him. "Even in school…I always knew you were a bit different than the people you hung out with."

Emma let her thoughts drift back to those days. "My friends used to say that if all of our lives were a play, I'd be the lead — because I was the girl who never quite fit in."

"And that's true," he said, swinging her hand a little. "You'd be the heroine all right."

She wore a shy face, shaking her head in denial.

"What makes you think you wouldn't be?"

"I don't know." Emma stared up at the drifting clouds, feeling a strand of hair flutter over her face. "All I know is that when you're the heroine of a piece, your life is all about loss, growth, and love." She began recalling her many experiences over the past few years. Her lips parted slowly as the thoughts came to her.

"I rest my case," Dean said.

She chuckled again, waving the statement off. "A heroine is someone who helps people."

"And what do you think you've done for me ever since we met?" Dean pulled her closer. "You're my heroine, Em."

She nuzzled her nose against his, and hugged him back.

While growing up, Dean had always imagined that he'd meet someone. However, he'd never envisioned meeting such a strong, quirky, and sensitive woman who would bond with him in ways that no one else could. "You're more than my heroine," Dean whispered. "You're the closest friend I've ever had."

Emma's lips quivered, and her cheeks grew red. She cupped Dean's face, then stroked his curls. "I can say the same thing about you, Mr. McMullen."

The two eyed one another with calm affection, then shifted their stares into playful grins. Both felt grateful to have found the other.

They let their gazes drift to the sky, laying quietly together in the ocean of green.


	16. Pampering Emma

**"Pampering Emma"**

* * *

Dean swam behind Emma and pulled her close, washing her hair with long, slow strokes.

He paused while placing a hand on her shoulder. Stress was lurking beneath her skin. After rubbing the spot for a couple of seconds, he suddenly arrived at a better idea.

Dean drew her hair to one side of her head, pulling it aside like a thick blonde curtain. He placed soft kisses along her neck, then moved his lips to the flesh below.

Emma closed her eyes and opened her mouth, taking a number of deep breaths as her body relaxed.

They remained where they were for most of the morning, then left the water and pulled their bathing suits on.

After following Dean to the sunlit beach, Emma picked a spot and sprawled out on her side.

Dean stepped forth with a huge green leaf, fanning her as she chuckled with glee.

Once her hair had dried a bit, she pinned part of it back in Dean's favorite style, then rested her head on a pillow of vines.

She beamed as Dean began feeding her fruit, laying perfectly still as it reached her mouth. She ate in the spot for around 10 minutes, licking her lips while blushing a bit.

After the feeding session was done, he turned her over and began rubbing her calves. Dean circled his thumbs on the backs of her knees, then dragged his palms along Emma's thighs. After running his hands across her legs for a while, Dean slipped the bikini off of her bottom.

He spent a good deal of time on Emma's bare tush, molding it as though he was working with clay.

Emma smiled while resting her head, fully submitting to her partner's touch. She loved letting Dean have his way with her. There was something about it that was thrilling and fun.

Dean placed a soft slap on Emma's bottom, then ran his palms along her shoulders and back.

Once the massage had reached its end, he carried her over to the nearby shore.

Emma's eyes lit up as she saw the surprise.

Dean had constructed a miniature raft, built in the shape of a small pool float. Soft green leaves were blanketing the wood, which was just long enough to hold Emma's body.

The two drifted a short distance into the wide blue ocean, Emma laying on her back as Dean bobbed beside her.

Emma was surprised by how pleasant this was. It felt nice and relaxing to float across the water. She looked upward while Dean rubbed her soles and toes, flattening her legs to accommodate him.

Back when they'd first gotten stranded here, Emma had found herself wondering something: What had she ever done to deserve a life like this?

Right now, she was asking the exact same question — but her reasons for doing so were different than before. A giddy thrill stirred her spine as Dean's rubbing continued. She smiled while letting her eyes flutter closed.

Before long, Dean had begun staring up at her. "Do you know how you look right now?" he murmured.

"Beautiful," Emma said.

"There you go." He snapped his fingers. "Got it on the first answer this time."

Emma's lips rose in an affectionate grin. She recalled some of her earliest memories of Dean. He'd been complimenting her since their days as students — even if he hadn't entirely known it back then. Though she'd heard his flattery several times before, she always appreciated the sweet things he said. And moments like this made his words even nicer.

During some of their previous pampering sessions, she'd fantasized about being back in the city. None of that was happening right now, however. Her mind remained firmly fixed in the present.

As Dean pushed the float into a slow little twirl, Emma gazed up and watched the clouds spin about. Amidst the ride, she let her hands linger beneath the water.

* * *

Emma snuggled with Dean underneath their cover, her naked flesh rubbing against his own. She looked outside at the starry night, then sighed while feeling Dean's chest on her back. She loved nuzzling his muscles against her skin, his firm limbs wrapping all around her body. "Tell me that you love me," she said quietly.

Dean stroked her arms. "I love you, Emma," he whispered.

His words infused her with a happy thrill. It was her absolute favorite thing to hear. "Again," she muttered, closing her eyes. "Just keep telling me."

Dean began repeating himself, leaving slow pauses between each statement.

Emma held still in Dean's embrace, swooning with every declaration of love.


	17. It's Just You And Me Now

**"It's Just You And Me Now"**

* * *

Dean and Emma sat side by side, resting by the shore as they watched the waves.

Emma noticed that Dean was rather quiet today; he wasn't quite acting like he normally would. She'd spent the afternoon waiting for a number of things — a humorous comment, a playful embrace, a shower of kisses as he pinned her to the ground.

She knew she could have those upon request, but she wanted to know what was bothering him first. She never let herself play when there was work to be done. "You all right?" she quietly asked.

Dean responded with a slow little nod. "Just thinking about my mom," he said.

Emma eyed him a moment, then leaned her shoulder on his.

Dean paused to remember his father as well. Jack had gotten so depressed after the car accident. He hardly spoke. He had trouble at work. He even appeared suicidal at times, and Dean worried that he was going to lose him too. After holding quiet for about a minute, he turned to Emma with a tender stare. While gazing into her familiar eyes, he felt the need to say something that he'd said before. "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you." He shook his head slowly. "I honestly don't know if I could go on."

Emma frowned. "Don't say that."

"It's true," he muttered, looking out at the water. "If something happened to me, I'd hate the thought of leaving you alone too."

Emma opened her mouth, but found no words. She'd known that they'd address this topic one day, but she wasn't prepared to address it now. After letting a bit of silence linger, she took a deep breath, then willed herself to continue. "If I died…I'd want you to keep living."

He turned his head, and spoke very softly. "Why?"

"Because there's always hope, Dean. Let's say that somehow, someway, you managed to get rescued. I'd want you to tell my family about our time here. I'd want them to know that they stayed in my heart." She stroked his chin. "And I'd want them to know that I loved you."

Dean brushed one of her hairs aside, eyeing Emma with a loving stare. "If it was me who died, I'd definitely want you to live on too. I'd want you to have a chance at happiness."

Emma frowned again, then turned away. She found this subject quite unsettling. "I don't want either of us to face anything like that." She couldn't imagine living alone in this place, suffering through years of loneliness and heartbreak. She wouldn't want Dean to endure that either.

He rubbed her arm, then made a playful look. "Sounds like we need to keep each other safe then."

Emma chuckled, turning back to him. "Guess so."

Dean fell quiet as Emma smiled, taking a moment to admire her grin. He ran his eyes all along her face, enjoying his favorite sight in the world.

Emma felt like she was going to blush. She liked these moments when he stopped and stared. He'd been doing it well before their very first kiss — and Emma had secretly enjoyed it then.

After all, the admiration was mutual.

"I've been thinking about those days when we met," she announced. "At some point back then, you had a crush on me, and I had a crush on you. But lately I've been wondering something: Which of us developed our crush first?"

Dean laughed. "Interesting topic," he noted. "So who do you think it was?"

"You."

He flinched in surprise, looking half appalled. "You could've hesitated just a little."

Emma giggled.

"Seriously. I notice this strange lack of any doubt in your voice."

She shrugged while glancing toward the sky. "I used the Crush Quiz."

"What's the Crush Quiz?"

"You never heard of it?"

"Can't say that I have."

Her voice shifted into a skeptical tone. "Apparently, it's supposed to help people figure out if someone has a crush on them. Since we're already together, I applied it to our past."

Dean looked a little curious. "What exactly does this quiz cover?"

Emma stirred in excitement, and lifted her chin. "Question 1: Do you ever see him staring at you?"

Dean thought back to their time as students. "The answer would be 'no.' I mean, I stared sometimes, but you never saw me." He winked.

"Actually, I did."

Dean's jaw dropped, and his cheeks grew red. He folded his arms and lifted an eyebrow. "When?"

Emma snickered under her breath. "You're totally freaking out about this, aren't you?" After a bit of silence, she recalled one of the more memorable occasions. "Back when we were on the trip, I went for a swim in the pool one day…"

Dean gazed off as the memory came to him.

"I looked up at a balcony, and saw you staring down at me." Emma couldn't help but grin. "I remember being kind of touched at the time. This cute guy who always kept to himself…ignoring all the other girls and looking my way. Again."

Dean slowly nodded, acknowledging what she'd said. "So what's the second part of this quiz?"

Emma rolled her shoulders, feeling a bit playful. "Question 2: Does he ever act weird when you're around other guys?"

Dean again thought back to their days in school. "That would definitely be a 'no.' "

"Not quite," she said, shaking a finger.

He winced with a smile. "When did I ever act jealous of other guys?"

"Remember Stephen?"

"What about him?"

Emma made a sly little face. "I don't know if it was jealousy, but you _did_ get a little weird that night on the boat, when you asked if I was dating him."

"Oh, please…"

Emma laughed again.

"Nice try," he said, wrapping an arm around her. "But that wasn't jealousy. That was just…just…"

She bobbed in his grasp. "Go on. Just what?"

"Never mind," Dean said, suppressing a chuckle.

Emma made a triumphant grin, then returned her thoughts to the quiz. "Question 3: Does he show any sign that he cares for you?"

Dean licked his lips, looking a bit more serious.

Emma took one of his hands in hers. "I think I got the answer to that one when I fell off the boat."

Dean nodded, eyeing her warmly.

"Question 4: Does he show any signs of affection?"

Dean looked off and shrugged. "I never showed much of that," he noted. "Not until the day after we became a couple, when we had that little dance in the rain."

She watched him teasingly. "What about our first kiss? That seemed like a sign of affection to me."

He chuckled again, offering no objection.

Emma leaned in and nuzzled her nose against his. "So I think that settles it, Mr. McMullen. You were crushing on me first." She gave him a quick kiss.

"It's not settled just yet," Dean said, refusing to concede. "First of all, I used to see you staring at _me_ sometimes too, like that day in the cafeteria, before the trip."

Emma looked amused and surprised.

"Thought I didn't notice? Well, I did. Secondly, you've always shown signs of caring as well. You used to ask me about the sunset, and why I got all sentimental about it." Even in those days, Dean had picked up on how sensitive she was. More than once, he'd been tempted to bond with her over some personal things. He'd just held off on doing so for a while.

Emma smiled at the sand while thinking back to that period.

"So I'm not the only one with high scores on this quiz," Dean said. "The fact is, you did your share of staring, and you did your share of caring."

She nodded to herself, acknowledging his words.

"And as far as affection goes…." Dean flashed a confident grin. "You demonstrated that during our very first kiss."

Emma looked playfully smug. "Come again? You kissed _me_."

"Right. I kissed you — which led to you pushing me away and storming off in a huff." Dean snapped his fingers. "Oh, wait. That never happened."

She giggled, leaning against him as she watched the waves.

Dean quietly returned her affection.

"I guess we began crushing on each other around the same time, huh?" Emma recalled how aloof Dean was during their days in school. "Maybe those crushes were born for different reasons," she noted. "I think that a part of you wanted to bond with someone again."

"I didn't want to bond with just anyone, Em. I wanted to bond with you." Dean had always sensed that there was something about her.

Emma smiled. "Well, the good news is, we've got a lot of bonding to do." She took his hand in hers. "It's just you and me now."


	18. Fate

**"Fate"**

* * *

Emma rose from the sand on wobbly legs, rubbing her stomach as she steadied herself. Her baby bump was taking its toll.

Two years had gone by since the ship had appeared — seven years had passed since she'd arrived on the island — though neither she or Dean were aware of this.

The bump flowed with life every time she breathed, nestled between the pieces of her blue bikini. Her arms hung limply around the mound, and her long hair rested upon her shoulders. She eyed her stomach with a pouty little stare, feeling like a turtle as she tried to move.

With soft moans and labored steps, she pulled herself over to the nearby ocean, the wet sand covering her swollen feet. After a bout of dizziness had come and gone, she found a nice spot and sat by the shore.

Moments after she'd taken her place, someone approached and eased down beside her. Emma turned to her left, and saw the face of her mother. Barbara was watching her with a very proud smile.

Emma hesitated, eyes stirring in surprise. "Mom?" she muttered skeptically.

Barbara nodded, inching closer.

She looked her mother up and down. "This can't be real. I'm dreaming, right?"

Barbara tittered. "What makes you say that?"

Emma's confusion grew a little. "You're here," she murmured.

"Yes. I am." Barbara turned and faced the waves. "But maybe you're awake, and you're just imagining me."

Emma looked aside while pondering that. She'd hallucinated on this island before.

Barbara marveled at her daughter's stomach. "I'm so proud of you, Em. You know that I always wanted you to become a mother someday."

Emma fell quiet, shying away from the discussion.

"You're nervous about the pregnancy, aren't you?" Barbara noted. "Considering that, I guess it's a question of whether you _want_ this to be a dream…or if you want it to be real."

Emma watched the water, then lowered her gaze. She took a long, hard stare at her baby bump. After a good deal of silence and contemplation, she let out a sigh, and closed her eyes. "I guess a part of me wants all of this to be a dream," she admitted. "I'm not ready to be a mother. Not yet."

Barbara smiled. "I said the same thing when I was pregnant. I had all these questions about whether the timing was right, and whether I'd do a good job." She looked up at Emma's face. "Then, around five minutes after you were born, all of that anxiety just faded away. I knew that your father and I were meant to have you. Sometimes having a baby is just a matter of fate."

Emma stroked her brow. "It just feels like this is happening sooner than it should." She made a weak little smile. "Instead of having a kid, I think I want to be one again."

"You can't be Emma the girl anymore. Emma the woman is needed now."

Emma glanced at her, looking a little suspicious. "It seems like you want this more than I do. I- -"

Another voice called out, interrupting her words. "Emma?"

She turned around and saw Dean approaching. His shorts were tucked on beneath his broad bare chest.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked.

Emma turned to her left. Her mother was gone. She squinted in confusion, then rose to her feet.

Dean stared. "Are you feeling all right?"

Emma touched her head. "I think so." She raised her hand to block the sun, recalling the things it had done to her mind in the desert.

"Maybe you've been out here too long," Dean said.

Emma remembered her admission during the talk with her mother. She looked back at Dean, then let out a sigh. It was time to tell him what she'd told Barbara. "Dean…" she said, looking down at her bump.

He drew to a stop and placed his hands on his hips.

"I don't know if I'm ready to be a mom right now."

Dean flinched a little, lifting an eyebrow. A few seconds later, he flashed a curious grin. "Isn't it a bit too late to say that at this point?"

Emma looked around with a curious gaze. Something about the situation still felt odd and surreal. "Maybe not," she mumbled. "I'm not sure any of this is actually happening. I don't think it's reality."

Dean looked confused. "Are you certain you're feeling okay?"

"I…" Emma's vision blurred, and her legs began to shake. "I…"

Dean took a step forward. "Em?"

She dropped to one knee, eyes cast on the ground.

Dean sprinted over and helped her up, then eased her down on a mat of leaves. "Lay on your back." His voice became a mixture of excitement and worry. "I think the baby's coming."

Emma took a deep breath, holding her stare on Dean. As he slipped the bikini off of her tush, she reached a level of nervousness she'd never felt in her life.

For the first several minutes, she tried calming herself. As the process wore on, her tension shot through the sky.

Beads of sweat ran down her face. Long screams escaped her mouth. Her stomach moved in ways it never had before.

The sun had been out when the birth had begun. It was hiding behind the clouds at present.

Emma screamed amidst a slew of quick pants. "I can't do this!" she wailed. "Dean! I can't do this!"

"Yes you can," he called, crouching down at her feet. Dean shook his head with a nervous chuckle. "Em, you are the single strongest woman I've ever met in my life. There is no way on Earth that you cannot do this."

Emma took a deep breath, then whimpered a little. She thought of her parents, and her sister as well, feeling their strength reaching out to her.

She shut her eyes, suppressing tears…

And then her mother's voice began flowing through her mind.

 _You're resisting this, Emma. Just like you resisted the life you have now._

Emma opened her eyes in surprise.

 _You don't have to be afraid of this. You have so many qualities that a parent should have. You're nurturing, loving, thoughtful, and strong._

Emma relaxed a little, listening to what she heard.

 _It's time to become what you're meant to be._

A hint of uncertainty crossed Emma's face.

 _It's time to become a mother, Emma._

Silence lingered over the beach for a moment.

Emma tightened her muscles and took another deep breath. She gathered her courage, then looked down at Dean, alerting him to prepare himself.

Dean nodded, shaking where he sat.

"I love you," she moaned.

His face softened, and he rubbed her shins. "I love you too." After a moment of pause, Dean extended his hands between Emma's legs, readying himself for fatherhood.

Emma threw her head back, then spread her arms, wrapping her fists around clumps of sand. She gritted her teeth and summoned all of her might.

A curtain of red spread over her face. A wail of pain flowed out of her lungs. And after several more minutes of screaming and pushing, Dean and Emma could hear another person's voice among theirs. An infant's cry had arrived on the island.

Emma felt something leaving her body, slipping through the wetness between her legs. She looked to the sky as her eyes went wide. Nothing she'd ever felt could compare to this moment. She was giving birth. She was giving life.

And in those seconds, something died as well. Emma knew that her last bit of adolescence was gone for good. She _couldn't_ be Emma the girl anymore. She'd reached a point of womanhood from which there was no return.

Dean eyed the baby with an awestruck stare, pulling the child into his grasp.

As Emma looked on in sheer amazement, a series of visions flashed through her mind. For one brief moment, Emma saw herself at various points of her life: the little girl in overalls who cheered people up, the teen who others called sensitive beyond her years, and the young woman who'd become a trusted lover and friend.

It appeared that the grandest chapter of all might be starting now.

She glanced up as something caught her eye. Her mother was hovering just over the scene.

A proud Barbara smiled down on her daughter, making a little nod of satisfaction.

Moments later, she disappeared.

Emma looked back down, exhaling deeply — and then everything around her faded in black.

* * *

She awakened slowly, finding Dean at her side. "What's going on?" she murmured, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked, stroking her hair.

Emma looked herself over as reality sank in, then brushed a hand across her face. "I was dreaming," she whispered. It was clear that the pregnancy and apparition were all in her mind.

"Dreaming about what?"

Emma went quiet while watching him. Her eyes began gleaming with a soft affection, and she pulled Dean into a long embrace.

He paused in surprise, then hugged her back.

* * *

Dean sat beside Emma as they watched the waves, a ritual of theirs for seven years now. "You want to talk about it?" he said, wrapping an arm around her.

Emma shut her eyes, then opened them slowly. "During the birth, I could hear my mom's voice whispering to me, saying that it was time to become a mother." Emma squinted a little. "I'm probably around the same age that she was when she had me. I think that's why I dreamed about giving birth — because I can sense that it's what my mom would want for me right now."

He leaned his head toward hers, and gave Emma a little squeeze. "What do _you_ want?"

Emma stared out at the dancing waters. "I don't know," she admitted. She looked down at the sand and shook her head. "I know I've been open to motherhood before, but right now I feel like I'm not ready to be a mom. I don't know why. I guess I just go back and forth on some things."

Dean nodded in agreement, brushing his hand on her back. He felt rather indecisive about the subject himself. He still didn't know if he was ready to be a father. "I've spent so long wondering what we'd do if you ever got pregnant." His voice lowered a bit. "I'm half-surprised that it hasn't happened yet," he noted.

Emma remembered what her mother had said. "Sometimes having a baby is a matter of fate." She paused while pondering something else. "Maybe the same goes for not having one."

Dean wasn't sure how to respond. He reached out and took her hand.

"I don't know what our fate is when it comes to parenthood." Emma smiled. "But if we ever do have a baby, I think it'll happen when it's supposed to happen."


	19. Love Story

**"Love Story"**

* * *

Emma awakened beside Dean on a starlit night, both laying nude amidst the soft white sand.

She nuzzled a bit closer and let her eyes flutter closed, hearing the distant waves that surrounded their home. "Dean," she whispered, stroking his chest.

He murmured in response, arms sprawled at his sides.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go up to the tree house."

Dean opened his eyes, then rubbed them a bit. Moments later, the pair rose from the ground.

Emma placed a slap on Dean's bare bottom, gripping it for a moment as they walked together.

Dean made another sleepy murmur, then turned toward Emma and swooped her off of her feet.

Emma let out an excited giggle, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Dean laid her out on the sand again, licking her over from head to toe. He got a surprise as Emma mounted him, feeling her lips sweep across his torso. Upon turning her over once again, he squeezed her thigh as they shared a kiss.

Emma felt her breasts growing firm and tight, longing for attention from her lover's mouth. She guided Dean's face right in front of her chest, pausing to enjoy the anticipation. Seconds later, her wait came to an end.

Emma licked her lips while smiling up at the stars, feeling her body begin to fidget.

* * *

Thick rays of sunlight glided over the tree house. A number of warm breezes drifted into the home.

Emma pulled her hair into a long ponytail, walking about on a carpet of leaves. She eased down onto a small brown bench, looking a bit restless as she watched the floor.

Dean arrived home with a pack on his shoulder. He paused at the door upon spotting her. "Everything all right?"

Emma nodded while glancing up, hesitating a moment before she spoke. "Earlier today, for just a few seconds, I actually thought I heard a helicopter."

Dean flinched in surprise, setting the pack down slowly.

"It was probably nothing, though," she continued. "Could've just been something that sounded like one."

His eyes narrowed in slow suspicion. "I thought I heard one too."

Emma winced a little, lifting an eyebrow.

"But I kind of figured it was nothing as well." Dean rubbed his hair, looking a little unsure. After a bit of silence, he let himself chuckle.

"What is it?" Emma asked.

"Just thinking…what if there really was a helicopter out there coming to rescue us?" He sat down and wrapped an arm around her. "Once we got off this island, how do you think people would react to our love story?"

Emma threw an amused grin at the wall. "What do _you_ think would happen?"

Dean shrugged. "I figure that someone would make a film adaptation. Maybe they'd shoot it in Hawaii, or someplace like that."

Emma mulled it over, then shook her head. "I think they'd shoot the film here. They'd want it to be as accurate as possible, right?"

"Good point."

She smiled as her thoughts began to blossom. "So what do you imagine we'd do with the royalties?"

Dean touched his temple, then came up with something. "Maybe we'd move to another island someday — but we'd need to have a boat standing by at all times."

Emma let out a giggle.

"Seriously," Dean sighed. "Sometimes I really wonder how people would react to our tale." He stroked her face, lowering his tone a little. "Right now, I wish that everyone in our lives could know how much I love you."

She snuggled closer to him. "I'm glad that _I_ know it, Dean," Emma affirmed. "And you know that I feel the same for you." Her lips pulled into a warm smile. "This is the sweetest love story I could ever ask for."


	20. Resolution, Part One

**"Resolution" — Part One**

* * *

Emma propped a hand against the bark of a tree, the other one gripping her restless stomach. Her weary eyes drifted up to the sky, and she felt a bit dizzy as she winced at the sun.

She'd been down this road a few times before. It appeared that she was ailing from one of two things: either she'd gotten a little ill from something she'd eaten, or she was on the verge of becoming a mother.

She tried pinching herself, but she wasn't dreaming. Pregnant or not, this was happening for real.

Emma wasn't sure just how to react. A real baby meant real concerns.

What if a problem arose in the midst of the birth? And what would she and Dean do when their child got sick?

They'd talked about having a baby before, but they'd mainly discussed the emotional matters. They had overlooked some of the physical issues.

There were so many realities that they had to consider, so many things that they'd never addressed.

Though she hadn't had these discussions with Dean just yet, she had a pretty good idea of what he would say. He'd tell her that everything was going to be perfectly fine — that their child would be surrounded with care and love.

Emma knew, of course, that this was very much true. Any child of theirs _would_ be loved and adored, and would come to love them just as much in return.

As that little fantasy began sinking in, Emma felt a flutter of excitement that she couldn't explain. She felt a strange new warmth brewing within her heart. Her fear was still there…but her joy was stronger.

Barbara had always told her that she'd make a good mother, and Dean had often stated the very same thing. The person who'd doubted it was Emma herself, but now her feelings were beginning to change.

She didn't really know what was going on, but she was starting to become a believer now.

She looked down at her stomach, and made a shy little chuckle, then let her eyes wander as she started to blush.

* * *

After spending about an hour alone, Emma left the forest and stepped out to the beach.

Dean was crouching by a freshly made fire. He turned and watched her with curious eyes. She had that look about her again, a rare one that appeared when she was hiding something. "You feeling all right?" he asked.

Emma flinched — then quickly nodded. "Of course," she said, exaggerating a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?" She still didn't know if she was actually pregnant, so she'd opted to keep things quiet for now.

Dean studied her, then turned back to the blaze. He figured she'd tell him what was up when the time was right.

Emma glanced out at the fading sun. As an orange hue began sweeping over the beach, she thought back to their very first night on this island.

" _Aren't you?" Dean asked._

" _No," Emma said, narrowing her eyes with a suspicious smile._

" _You seem like you should be — perfect girl, perfect world."_

 _She paused a second, then shook her head. "I can't tell if you're being mean or nice."_

Emma giggled to herself. She reached down and stroked Dean's hair, letting her eyes linger on her stomach for a moment.

"Dinner should be ready pretty soon," he said.

"I'm not too hungry. Already ate." A playful grin swept over her face. "But since I'm not particularly busy right now, why don't I help you make your meal?"

He lifted an eyebrow, then let out a chuckle. "Why?"

Emma crouched beside him. "It's been a while since we've done this," she noted.

Dean's confusion grew. "We cook together all the time."

"But we hardly ever do it side by side — like we're on one of those cooking shows, or whatever." She brushed her shoulder against his. "I want to have a fun moment. A married moment."

Dean snickered under his breath. "A married moment." He turned back to the fire. "Define that for me."

Emma beamed. "It's when people do something together simply because they're married — something that either of them could easily do alone. Them doing it together is kind of strange. It's completely unnecessary…which makes it completely adorable." She placed a slow, loving kiss on his cheek.

Dean grinned, shaking his head a little. "I guess _Cooking With Dean and Emma_ is officially on the air."

* * *

Several nights later, Emma left the tree house to sleep on the sand. She'd simply told Dean that she needed some air — but he sensed that she wanted some time alone. She'd been quiet all day, but he wasn't sure why.

Emma cuddled up while laying still on her side, watching her stomach with a placid stare. As she drifted off into a long, deep sleep, her latest dream took her to a pitch-black place. She saw absolutely nothing, except for herself.

Emma looked about with startled eyes, wading slowly throughout the dark. Within seconds, she heard someone behind her. Emma paused a moment, then turned around. She had a good idea of who she'd find.

Barbara studied Emma affectionately, reaching out to stroke her face.

Emma smiled back, then let her gaze drift downward.

"Let's talk about what's bothering you," Barbara said.

Emma held her elbows, still facing the ground. "Nothing's bothering me," she murmured. "I'm fine."

"That's not true." Barbara grinned a tad. "If you were fine, I wouldn't be here."

Emma glanced up, then looked away again. She knew that her mother had a valid point. Whenever Emma was being haunted by certain emotions, it seemed that Barbara arrived at some point or another.

A burst of white light suddenly appeared behind Barbara, and a glowing portal hovered about in the dark.

Emma looked on in awe and surprise.

"I want you to come with me, Em," Barbara said while extending her hand.

Emma nervously eyed the portal. "I don't understand. Where are we going?"

"You're going on a journey into motherhood."

The younger woman stared, wondering what that meant. "A journey?"

"You're going to start at the beginning, then skip forward a bit, moving from one phase of motherhood to another," Barbara explained. "At some point, you might even forget that you're having a dream…but you'll remember, when the time is right."

Emma squinted at the glow, lingering where she stood. "But why?" she asked. "Why am I going on this journey?"

Barbara watched her calmly. "In your heart, I think that you know the answer," she said. "You definitely should by the time this is over."

Emma hesitated, pondering that. Then she took a step forward, and held Barbara's hand.

The two of them walked into the cloud of light, becoming twin silhouettes amidst a quick white flash.

* * *

Emma emerged from the portal alone. Dean was standing on the beach before her. She winced a little, then looked down at her stomach.

Her huge baby bump had returned.

"Are you certain you're feeling okay?" Dean asked.

As that particular question sank in, Emma began to get a sense of deja vu. "Huh?" she muttered.

"You just said, 'I'm not sure any of this is actually happening. I don't think it's reality.' " Dean looked her over, then let out a chuckle. "What does that mean?"

"I…" Emma's vision blurred, and her legs began to shake. "I…"

Dean took a step forward. "Em?"

She dropped to one knee, eyes cast on the ground.

Dean sprinted over and helped her up, then eased her down on a mat of leaves. "Lay on your back." His voice became a mixture of excitement and worry. "I think the baby's coming."

Emma's eyes widened as her back touched the mat. Within seconds, she realized that this dream was playing out just like the other one.

After a moment of pause, she closed her fists and prepared herself.

Everything was much as it was before — except that Emma was a little braver this time. She endured the anguish, and endured the stress, meeting both with calm resolve.

Emma stifled screams, and suppressed cries, watching the sky with a shaky stare. Sweat ran down her reddened face. Tears escaped her brave blue eyes. She sensed that the birth was nearing its end.

"You're doing good, Em," Dean called, trembling by her legs. "Keep going. I think we're almost there."

Emma took a deep breath, and tightened her muscles, readying herself for one big push. As her stomach moved and her body shook, Emma closed her eyes and summoned all of her strength. Her belly shifted one last time, and she let out a little wail in response.

Moments later, something caught her attention. Emma heard a new voice alongside Dean's.

The cry of an infant had arrived on the island.

"Emma!" Dean bellowed, pulling the child into his arms. His voice broke into tearful laughter. "We're parents. We have a baby girl."

Emma fidgeted where she lay. A series of breaths flowed out of her mouth, and beads of sweat trickled across her face. She turned her gaze downward, and eyed her daughter in awe.

"She's amazing," Dean said. He looked up at Emma. "Just like her mother."

As a slew of tears rolled down her cheeks, Emma released a little chuckle of joy. Then she let out another, and began to cry.

* * *

 _My name is Emmaline Isabelle McMullen._

 _If you're reading this note, chances are you've found it many years after it was written. Hope I didn't make it too tricky to spot._

 _As I sit here now, staring out at the island, I honestly feel like the luckiest person alive._

 _However, that wasn't always the case._

 _I came to this island by accident one day. I tried to leave, but I constantly failed. I whined a lot, and sulked as well. I thought I'd been completely robbed of my life — but I couldn't have been more wrong about that._

 _Since coming here, I've become a woman, I've become a wife, and earlier today, I became a mother._

 _Each experience is a journey itself._

 _There's more to being a woman than simply growing up. It's about coping with changes as well as you're able, doing several things that need to be done, and becoming a stronger version of who you were before._

 _Likewise, there's more to being a wife than simply falling in love. It's about knowing that the person you love isn't perfect, having them know the same thing about you, and being there for each other when it really matters._

 _I don't know much about motherhood yet, but believe me when I tell you that I'm eager to learn._

 _It's likely that you and I have never met each other, which means that I don't know how you came to be on this island._

 _However, if you're stranded in this place, as I once was, perhaps I can offer a few words of wisdom: there's a difference between spending your life here, and living your life here._

 _Choose the latter. Choose to live._

 _Love,_

 _Emma_

* * *

Emma paced along the sand while holding her daughter, who was bundled up in a thin white cloth.

Emma's face was more peaceful than ever. Her eyes were calm, and her smile was soft. She wore this expression from day to day, walking about in a trance of love.

She'd noticed a lot of changes over the past few days, especially while carrying Lilli around. Things that were trivial became notable again — the glow of the stars, the warmth of the breeze, the crashing of the waves against the shore. For reasons Emma couldn't entirely explain, she talked to her daughter about everything.

"Look up there," Emma murmured sweetly. "How many stars do you see? One. Two. Three…"

* * *

Emma rested on the sand with Lilli in her arms.

Dean stood beside them, looking up at the birds. "See the way they move like that, Lilli?" Dean asked. "Do you know what birds are doing when they flap their wings?"

Lilli opened her mouth in a tiny little O. She held quiet while staring upward.

"Guess I'll take that as a 'no.' " Dean made a teasing smile, then looked to Emma. "Why don't we ask Mommy what it is that they're doing?"

Emma turned to Lilli and spoke soothingly. "They're flying," she hummed.

"Yes. Flying." Dean hopped up on a tree stump. "I've got an idea. Why don't we see if Daddy can fly?" Dean swung his arms and leapt from the stump. He tumbled to the ground, exaggerating his fall. After rolling around on the sand a bit, he flashed a grin and turned back to Lilli. "We have our answer. Daddy can't fly."

A bright smile spread across Lilli's face, and she let loose with a series of laughs.

Emma looked down at the baby again. "Daddy's a funny guy, isn't he?" She lifted her eyebrows and shook her head. "He can be a little strange sometimes, but we love him anyway, right?" Emma nodded at Lilli, who nodded back. Then she raised the girl's hand and gave her daughter a high five.

* * *

Dean paced along the beach with Lilli in his arms. "You know what, Lil? I haven't had dinner yet. I think I should gobble up your cheeks."

Lilli held her mouth closed, locking her curious eyes on Dean.

"What do you think? Hmm? Do you think I should gobble up your cheeks?"

Lilli shook her head.

"Okay," he said, breaking into a chuckle.

Later that night, Dean sat beside Emma as they watched Lilli sleep. He cast a glance at the ocean, looking toward the horizon.

Before long, Emma could tell that Dean was thinking about the world out there.

He turned back to her. "Are we ever going to tell Lilli about…you know…?"

She licked her lips. "About what?" Emma muttered, not sounding sincere.

Dean shrugged. "Do we tell her about where we came from…or do we let her believe that there are only three people in the world?"

Emma looked down at the sand, then took a deep breath. She closed her eyes a second, running a hand through her hair. "When I was living in the city, I spent all this time planning for tomorrow — imagining where I wanted to go next," she noted. "Then after we got here…I basically did the same thing. I couldn't stop fantasizing about leaving the island, about getting my life back on track."

Dean held quiet, listening closely.

"The point is, I've spent too much time dreaming about the future while overlooking the present." Emma faced Lilli with a sweet little stare. "I don't want her to be like that — the way that I used to be. I want her to stay content with where she is."

Dean watched her a moment, then slowly nodded.

"I guess we'll tell her about the outside world when the time is right." She took Dean's palm in hers. "But I want Lilli to know that the island is her home." Emma beamed with a playful look. "Her home, and ours."

He stroked Emma's fingers, grinning back at her, then turned his gaze to Lilli once more.

Emma held her eyes on Dean. In all her life, she'd never felt closer to anyone than she did to him, and the feeling was especially strong right now.

Dean glanced at Emma, wondering why she was quiet.

Emma squeezed his hand a bit. "I'm actually honored to have a child with you, Dean McMullen," she whispered. Her face broke into a little smile.

* * *

Dean held Lilli's hand as they walked by the shore. His daughter was a spunky toddler now.

Every time a wave rushed up to their heels, the pair leapt to avoid it while sharing a laugh.

Emma watched from a distance while sprawled on the beach, then stared at the newest bump in her stomach.

After putting Lilli down for an afternoon nap, Dean walked over and sat beside Emma. He settled his eyes on her bulging belly, then quietly lifted his gaze to hers.

"What is it?" she asked.

Dean ran a hand along her stomach. "I like it when you're pregnant," he announced. It almost sounded like an epiphany.

Emma chuckled to herself, looking down at the sand. Even now, after all these years, Dean thought that everything about her was cute. From what she could tell, he liked watching her trudge about, or simply lie on the beach, the promise of new life flowing within her body.

"It's not just the way you look, it's the way you act," he noted.

"And how do I act?" Emma sleepily murmured.

"A little quieter. A little calmer. It's like you're living in this happy little place, where something real special is about to happen."

Emma watched him with a tranquil smile, the breeze blowing a stray lock across her face. She reached out and held Dean's hand. "That happy little place is right here with you."

Dean looked down at her belly again. "I wish I could take a picture. It'd be nice to have an image of you with this bump," he said. "A pregnant Emma is one of my favorite sights in the world."

She beamed a little, sensing her cheeks going red.

"But as much as I enjoy seeing you pregnant," Dean continued, "it's what comes afterward that I like the most."

* * *

A relay race had begun on the beach.

Dean and Emma jogged side by side, pretending to compete as they taunted each other. Upon reaching a line that was drawn in the sand, both turned and ran back to their respective partners.

Emma tagged their oldest daughter, Lilli, while Dean tagged their younger child, Sarah. The kids were wearing long cloths tied up at their shoulders.

Both girls ran with wild abandon, showing none of the restraint that their parents had shown.

Emma and Dean glanced at each other, exchanging a few quiet giggles.

* * *

Dean and Emma sat side by side, cooking dinner together beneath the stars.

A girl's voice called out in the distance behind them. "I'm back," Sarah happily announced. A good deal of time had passed since her birth; she now looked to be about seven years old. She stepped across the sand with a sack full of berries, her long brown hair tied up in a bun.

Another voice came from the other direction. "I'm back too," Lilli said. She joined her family beside the fire, loose blonde locks hanging down her shoulders. Lilli was around two years older than Sarah.

Neither child had gone very far — they weren't allowed to travel about on their own — but each liked to exaggerate the length of their trip.

Sarah dropped her berries beside the rest of the food.

"Nice going, kiddo," Dean said with a nod.

The younger girl swayed in place with a smile, cupping her hands behind her back.

Lilli stepped forth and set her pile down next. Her batch was significantly larger than Sarah's.

Sarah frowned, then looked away.

"Good job," Emma warmly said. "Both of you."

A little later in the evening, Sarah and Lilli tried their hands at cooking. It was Sarah who managed to finish up first, and each of her vegetables were nicely done.

But Lilli's cooking was even nicer. Her results were more thorough, more crispy and brown.

Sarah glared, then tossed down her stick. She tightened her lips and stormed away from the others.

Emma winced. "Sarah?" She stood up and chased after her. "Hey…"

A few minutes later, Emma and Sarah found a quiet spot to talk in.

"What's going on?" Emma asked.

Sarah trudged about with folded arms, holding her stare on the soft white sand. "It just seems like anything I can do, Lilli can do better," she muttered.

Emma held quiet, then chuckled to herself.

"What's funny?" Sarah asked.

"My sister used to say the same thing about me," Emma revealed.

Sarah's mouth fell open amidst her surprise.

Emma narrowed her eyes in sympathy. "It's not true, though. It just seems that way at times. In reality, each of us has something that we do pretty well, something that we might be a little better at than everyone else."

"That's right," Lilli said, approaching behind Emma. "You're a better swimmer than me, remember?"

Sarah paused to consider that, her features beginning to brighten a bit. She seemed to admire her sister's compassion. Lilli always managed to make her feel better.

Dean chimed in while walking up to the others. "It's good that each of us has something that we specialize in." He shrugged. "That means that whenever one of us falls a little short, we always have someone who we can lean on." He wrapped his arms around Emma.

"That's the way it should be," Emma added, reaching up to hold Dean's hand. "We're a family. We're a team."

Sarah blushed, then sent a smile toward Lilli. She got a slow nod from her sis in return.

* * *

A few hours later, Lilli approached her sister alone on the beach, looking a tad restless as she walked about.

Sarah quickly recognized Lilli's expression. Her face was a portrait of curiosity. "I know that look," Sarah teased. "You've been trying to figure something out."

Lilli calmly sprawled out on the sand. She let out a sigh while staring upward. "Do you really think that the four of us are the only people in the world right now?"

Sarah rested her eyes on her sister's face, then turned her gaze to the ocean of stars. "Do you?"

Lilli hesitated, then shook her head. "No…" she whispered. "I think there are other girls, and other boys — living on other islands out there."

Sarah couldn't help but be fascinated. "How many other islands do you think there are, Lil?"

Lilli pursed her lips, pondering the question. "Maybe two." She paused, then nodded confidently.

"And how many other people are out there?"

She crossed her arms above her head. "Probably eight," the older girl said.

Sarah arched a knee and stroked her brow. "I wonder why Mom and Dad never take us to visit those islands."

Lilli fell silent for a few seconds. "Maybe they can't. Maybe we're stuck here."

Sarah turned to her in surprise.

"I mean…sometimes I see Mom staring out at the ocean, and it looks like she's sad about something. Remembering something." Lilli quieted, rubbing her chin. "But then she looks at us, or looks at Dad, and all of that sadness just disappears."

Sarah shifted her gaze back to the sky. After a few moments, she spoke again. "Do you really think we're stuck here?"

Lilli cupped her cheek. "I don't know," she said rather casually.

Sarah paused, then smiled a little. "If we are…I think I'm kind of happy about that. I like it here."

The older girl laughed. "So do I. So do Mom and Dad."

"If we ever left," Sarah said, "I'd just want to come back."

* * *

Lilli sprinted up the ladder and bounced into the tree house, while Sarah rushed in right behind her.

Moments later, Emma followed. "You two get ready for bed." She clapped her hands twice when they didn't hear her. "Uh, uh. No games tonight. Straight to bed. It's late." Emma recalled living with her parents and sister. She'd spent so many mornings waking them up. She chuckled while thinking back to those days, taking in the sight of her current household.

Dean stepped in with a stretch and a yawn.

Emma hugged his waist and brushed a hand on his chest.

Around an hour later, Emma watched as the others lay soundly asleep, eyeing her family with unabashed pride. She nuzzled against Dean and draped a leg across his, pulling their cover up over their chests.

As Emma was settling into a slumber as well, she noticed her mother looking on from a shady corner, smiling proudly at Lilli and Sarah.

Emma flinched in surprise, rising a little.

Seconds later, Barbara was gone.

Emma stared at the area where her mother had been, her mouth hanging open as she eyed the spot.

After watching steadily for about a minute, she rolled on her back and threw her gaze to the ceiling. She'd gotten a reminder that this was a dream. And sooner or later, she was going to wake up.


	21. Resolution, Part Two

**"Resolution" — Part Two**

* * *

Lilli leapt from the tree house and landed on the sand, a wave of sunlight rising from her knees to her face.

She'd reached the same age that Emma was when she'd arrived on the island, her long blonde locks framing curious eyes.

She gazed into the distance and spotted her mother, whose back was turned as she sat by the shore.

Emma's hair danced about in a quiet breeze, white locks peeking through the mass of gold. Her eyes were surrounded by tiny wrinkles, and her lazy stare showed signs of age.

Lilli crossed the sand and sat down by her mom, looking out at the gentle waves. "You're thinking about the other place, aren't you?" she asked.

"What other place?" Emma said, turning to her daughter.

"The place where you and Dad used to live, before you came to the island."

Emma paused, holding silent for a moment. Then she chuckled a little and glanced down at the sand. "I think about it sometimes," she admitted. "But there's a difference between thinking about it, and longing for it. I don't long for it anymore."

As usual, Lilli appeared fascinated by her mother's words. "Why not?" she wondered, moving a bit closer.

Emma shifted her gaze back to the waves. "I learned a couple of lessons on this island before you were born." She lifted her eyebrows. "Actually, I learned a lot of lessons, but two of them stood out. One: there are certain fantasies that you have to let go of." Emma eyed the horizon, thinking about her past. "That's probably the second biggest thing that I've learned here."

Lilli listened closely, turning her stare to the water. "What's the biggest lesson of all?"

Emma smiled. "The biggest lesson is…" She trembled a little, and her words trailed off.

Emma got a rare but familiar feeling. The world began growing faint and quiet. Her breathing shifted, and her mind relaxed. A wave of consciousness crept into her head. And as each of those sensations began sinking in, she suddenly knew that she was dreaming — and that she was about to wake up.

She turned to Lilli with a look of fear. Her jaw quivered. Her cheeks grew warm. She licked her lips while calming herself…

And then her eyes began brimming with tears.

Lilli glanced at Emma amidst the silence.

Emma turned away to hide her face.

"Mom?"

Suddenly, Emma noticed a distraction across the sand. "Hey," she said. "It looks like Sarah and your dad have got the picnic ready. Why don't you head over there and join them?"

"What about you?"

"I'll be there in a minute."

Lilli sprung up and began strolling away.

"Lil," Emma said. "Come here for a second."

Lilli stepped back over to her mother, and Emma pulled the girl into a deep, long hug.

"I love you, baby," Emma moaned.

The sudden affection took Lilli by surprise. "I love you too," she chuckled, rubbing Emma's back. After pausing to admire her mom for a second, she turned away and ran off with a grin.

Moments later, everything around Emma had faded away. She found herself surrounded by darkness again, and saw that she'd reverted to her real age. She was back where she'd started — and she wasn't alone.

Barbara walked up and stood before Emma, pulling her lips into a loving smile. "I'm glad that you had those visions, Emma," she said.

Emma took deep breaths while watching her mother, then closed her eyes amidst a slew of tears. "So am I," she murmured.

The older woman moved closer, eyeing Emma with compassion. "And do you understand why you took this journey now?"

Emma sniffed, then slowly nodded. "I do," she said. After a moment's pause, she stepped forth and embraced her mother. For some reason, she sensed that she was finished having dreams like this one.

However, she still hoped to have visions of her family now and then. No matter how long she was apart from them, there was a constant feeling that would never change. "I love you, Mom," Emma whispered.

Barbara smiled, holding her close. Once they'd separated, she cupped her hand along Emma's face, then slowly faded amidst the dark.

* * *

Emma awakened in reality to a bright new day, seeing Dean by a fire, cooking their breakfast.

He grinned and waved as she pulled herself up. "You feeling okay?"

Her eyes began to water a little as she watched him. "Dean…" she said. "I've got to talk to you."

* * *

Emma lay cuddled in Dean's embrace, staring up at the cloudy sky.

"So that was why you got all quiet yesterday," Dean noted, speaking gently. "Because you realized that you weren't actually pregnant."

She inhaled softly, then took a slow breath. "I honestly wanted to be this time," she mumbled. "But it was another false alarm — and it actually got me thinking about something."

He brushed a hand across her hair. "What was that?"

Emma closed her eyes. "We've been here for so long, and I still haven't had a baby. I think there's a reason for that. I think I can't." Her voice lowered into a somber tone. "I think I might have a condition that prevents it."

Dean froze for a moment while pondering her words, his eyes gleaming with a hint of tension.

"I started to get depressed yesterday while thinking about that," she continued. "And then, suddenly, this dream came along. I think it was a gift of some sort. I think I was being given something in fantasy that I can't have in reality."

He listened on in fascination, recalling all of the visions that she'd described. "It sounds like it was a really nice dream, Em."

"It was beautiful," she said. "You were beautiful, and so were the children." Emma paused to enjoy the memories for a while.

Dean held quiet, letting her bask in her thoughts.

After she'd left her transfixed state, Emma eyed Dean regretfully, and her voice broke a little. "But I don't think I can give you any kids in reality, Dean…and I'm sorry for that."

"It's all right," he whispered, placing a kiss on her cheek. Dean shook his head. "Maybe this is our fate when it comes to parenthood," he said, thinking back to their recent discussion. "But even if we never become parents, life will go on." He paused to look at her. "I'm just wondering if you're going to be okay with that."

Emma looked down, then closed her eyes again. "It might be hard, but I think I will be," she admitted. "Because we have each other…and because I know that there are certain fantasies that we have to let go of," she noted. "That's the second biggest lesson that I've learned on this island."

Dean leaned his head against hers. "What's been the biggest lesson of all?"

She paused before responding. "That home is where the heart is," Emma said. She drew back a little, facing him. "No matter where we are, my home will always be with you."


	22. And Then I Met You

" **And Then I Met You"**

* * *

Dean loved the aftermath of a rainy afternoon. He liked the scent in the air, the gray of the sky, the soft feeling of moisture lingering about everywhere.

He took Emma's hand as they strolled by the shore, feeling a wave rush beneath them every minute or so. "Okay," he said. "So I might have some news." Dean licked his lips and looked to the sky. "While you were sleeping, I heard what sounded like a helicopter again."

Emma opened her mouth, but stayed perfectly quiet.

Dean glanced at her with a look of surprise, wondering if she'd understood him fully. "I ran out and checked — for a helicopter, I mean — but I couldn't see anything but birds up there."

Emma held her stare forward, watching the waves hit the sand.

Dean couldn't help but feel a little bewildered. "Do you think that one could've actually passed by?" he wondered.

Emma lifted her gaze up to the clouds. "Maybe," she muttered, glancing down once more.

Dean watched Emma in utter confusion. She sounded strangely indifferent to this conversation.

He knew that Emma had embraced their life on the island, but he was sure that she'd prefer to be back in the city.

Or would she?

"Do you even want to leave this place anymore?" he asked.

Emma held her hips and looked at the ground, taking a moment to consider that question.

After a fair deal of silence, she let out a sigh. "I don't know," she admitted, stroking the back of her head.

Dean flinched a little, holding his eyes on her. "I never thought I'd see the day when Emma Robinson wanted to stay on this island."

"Emma McMullen," she countered. "And I didn't exactly say that I wanted to stay."

"What are you saying, Em?"

"I'm saying that it would be great if we could see our families again…but I'm not sure what else there is to go back to anymore."

Dean turned his head forward, holding quiet for a moment. He'd had the very same feelings for quite some time, but had largely tried keeping them to himself.

Emma looked down and kicked at the sand. "I'm not even sure what I'd _do_ when I got back."

"What kind of job do you think you'd get?"

She shrugged a little. "I'd probably have to start out in a diner, or a department store."

Dean smiled while picturing Emma as a waitress. Then he glanced at the sky as a thought came to him. "We've been here a while," he mused. "And we've gotten used to it now. If we suddenly left this place and went back to civilization…how hard do you think the adjustment would be?"

Emma squinted while pondering that.

"Are we honestly ready to swap island life for city life?" he asked. "I mean, island life has _some_ advantages, right?"

Her eyes began gazing from place to place. "I guess," she chuckled.

Dean plopped down on the sand, letting himself relax. His face shone with a playful smile. "What are the benefits of living _here_ , as opposed to where we came from?"

Emma grinned and sat down before him. "For starters, there's no schedule to keep everyday." She recalled her old habit of getting up on time, then tittered a little while thinking back to that period. She'd been proud to maintain a schedule then, but had come to enjoy living without one now.

"We've also got a beach pretty close to our house," he added.

"That we do." Emma giggled, shaking her head. "I used to spend about 30 minutes driving out to a beach. When I wake up now, I spend about 30 seconds walking to one."

Dean spread his arms. "That's pretty nice, right? Besides that, we've got some great scenery in front of us too."

Emma brushed back her hair while eyeing the beautiful sights — a blue waterfall, a vast green valley, the long white beach that she loved to walk on.

Her lips began rising in a gentle smile, and she decided that she wanted to take a trip somewhere.

* * *

Dean and Emma sat perched just above a lagoon, a stream of water bathing the rocks beside them.

Before long, Emma noticed that Dean had gotten a little quiet. "What are you thinking about?" she asked softly.

Dean stroked his hair. "Those things we were talking about yesterday."

She leaned her head to the side, pulling a lock from her face. "You mean the stuff about childhood?"

His gaze began to linger on the passing clouds. "I wasn't just a 'loner' back in high school. I've kind of been that way ever since I was little." Dean felt a bit awkward while recalling those years. "When I was a kid, I spent all this time hanging around the house playing video games. I always kept to myself and shut everyone out." He crossed his arms on his knees and let out a sigh. "But after a while I got lonely, so I gave soccer a try."

Emma nodded, interlocking her fingers.

"It was nice at first." He let himself chuckle. "I had a lot of fun, I got a sense of humor, and I realized that connecting with people wasn't as hard as I thought." Dean looked down at the rocks, falling quiet a moment.

Emma sensed what he was thinking, and moved a bit closer.

"When I lost my mom…I kind of closed myself off again." After a bit of silence, he turned his stare to Emma once more. "Then I met you — and everything changed."

A modest grin spread across Emma's face.

"Once the two of us got to know each other, I felt something that I'd never really felt before," he said.

She brushed her hand across Dean's chin, then paused to recall her own life in the city. "I've never been a loner. I always hung out in crowds," she noted. "But before I met you…I never had a bond as strong as this one." Emma thought back to their earlier discussion. "I guess we've discovered a lot of good things on this island. We found a great beach. We found a nice place to live. But the greatest thing about coming here was that we found each other."

He beamed a little, leaning closer to her.

Emma met his stare with a playful little smile.

Moments afterward, Dean and Emma joined hands, and they slowly kissed.


	23. Us

**"Us"**

* * *

Dean sat beside Emma as she lay on the sand, serving her fruit while she eyed him warmly. Once the feeding session was done, he scooped up her legs and began rubbing her peds.

A distant memory crept across Dean's mind, and a faint little grin spread over his face.

"What? What are you smiling at?" she teased.

"Growing up, I always figured that I'd be working at some desk in an office by now." He glanced at Emma. "Instead, my job is to pamper you all day."

Emma lifted an eyebrow and flashed a haughty smirk. Then she threw her head back and let the giggles arrive. "Lucky me," she said appreciatively, her sunny demeanor on full display. "I had no idea that getting pampered was this much fun."

Dean paused, eyes stirring in surprise. "You never had an old boyfriend do this for you?" The thought of that kind of irked him a bit. He didn't want to imagine Emma with anyone else.

"I never had an old boyfriend, period," she revealed.

His jaw dropped, just a tad. He could hardly believe what he'd just been told.

Emma shrugged. "I mean, I used to go out on a date now and then…but nothing serious. Not until you came along."

Dean's stare became utterly frozen on her.

Emma squinted, feeling a little confused. She thought back to when she'd told him about her virginity. "You always seem so stunned when I say that you're my first," she murmured.

"Because I can't believe that I'm the only guy who's been with the amazing Emma Robinson," he explained.

Emma chuckled. "You're pretty amazing yourself, and you've never been involved with anyone else either."

"Which makes _sense_. I kept people at a distance. You didn't."

Emma took a deep breath and brushed back her hair. "Well, whether it makes sense or not, it's the truth," she said. A familiar sweetness entered into her stare.

Dean felt deeply touched by her words — but he remained surprised, he remained perplexed. "Why?" he whispered, his hands growing gentler. "How come you never did much dating, Em?"

Emma frowned a little and looked aside. Her friends used to wonder the very same thing. "There were a couple of reasons, I guess," she mumbled. "First, none of the guys I met seemed to like me for _me_." She faced Dean again. "They weren't like you."

Dean nodded slowly. "Not everyone can be Dean McMullen," he teased, letting his ego swell a bit. "So then. What was your other reason?"

As a personal memory came back to her, Emma suddenly went silent, feeling deeply shy.

Dean's arrogance began fading away. He detected something serious in Emma's demeanor.

"After I found out about the affair in my family…I think I kind of lost my belief in love," she said.

Dean licked his lips and wore a sensitive face. He quickly felt sorry for bringing this up.

"But I found that belief again, after I found you." Emma faced him with the warmest of smiles.

He returned her expression, rubbing his hands on her skin. Moments afterward, another thought came to him.

"What is it?" she asked, reading him like a book. "What's on your mind?"

"Just wondering. What if one of us _had_ been dating someone when we came to this island? Or what if _both_ of us were already attached?"

Emma grew fascinated as she listened on.

"If we'd still fallen in love, then gotten rescued, how would we handle things with our 'significant others?' "

Emma grinned. "I wouldn't want to hurt anyone else, but I would have to be true to my heart," she affirmed. "And I know that my heart would lead me to you."

As usual, Dean was quite moved by what Emma had said. "Same here," he replied with a nod. His eyes brightened as he stared at her. "The two of us belong together."

"That we do," Emma happily concurred. "As noted, you and I are writing a really sweet love story here."

Dean's imagination began to flourish again. "What if that love story had started sooner?" He looked down at the sand. "I know this sounds strange, but I've actually imagined us coming here as little kids, and growing up on this island."

Emma winced in a bit of surprise. Where did Dean come up with these things?

"Like I said," he chuckled, "it sounds crazy."

"No," she murmured, letting the thought sink in. Emma took a few moments to consider it further. "Actually, I think that certain things would've been easier for me. I think that I might've had a quicker adjustment."

Dean recalled their early days on the island. Emma had taken a while to loosen up back then.

"We had different perspectives when we first came here. You saw a paradise. I saw a prison. You kept wanting me to relax a little and have some fun…but all I could think about was getting off this island," Emma said.

Among other things, Dean remembered a certain moment from their very first day, a moment when he'd asked her to take a picture.

"I realize now that I acted that way because of my primary flaw," she mumbled. "Or at least, my primary flaw back then."

Dean lowered his voice, treading gently. "What was your primary flaw, Em?" He sounded like he already knew.

Emma looked away, but answered honestly. "I used to spend so much time focusing on the future that I undervalued the present."

Dean folded his arms, holding perfectly quiet. He'd seen hints of this before they'd even come to the island.

"After we got stranded here, I kept thinking, 'Why _now_?' Why couldn't this have happened after I'd gotten old? Why did this have to happen just before I could get my life started?" She'd asked that question a lot during the early days. "Then I fell in love with you, fell in love with this place…and I learned that it was okay to mourn the loss of my future — but it wasn't okay to overlook the present." She smiled at him. "So I decided to stop living for tomorrow, and start living for today. And I began to overcome that flaw of mine."

Dean watched her proudly, admiring the progress that she'd made. " _My_ primary flaw was that I always tended to keep pain bottled up, until you showed me that I don't have to do that."

Emma recalled the day she'd found Dean burying the skeleton. She remembered how she'd gotten him to open up then, and thought of how often he'd done it since.

Dean grinned. "Seems like we've both gone through some pretty big changes — because we're together. Because there's an _us_."

Emma quietly beamed, nodding to herself. After a while, she spoke up again. "So. If those were our primary flaws back then, what are our primary flaws right now?"

He took a few seconds to admire her body. "You look pretty flawless to me."

She rolled her eyes, then shook her head.

Dean found himself in a state of surprise. Before now, he'd thought that he'd learned all that there was to know about Emma, but it seemed that there was always something new to discover. "I never knew some of these things that you mentioned," he said. "I didn't know certain details."

Emma nodded again. "I think it's nice that we keep learning things about each other." She lifted her eyebrows. "After all, we're going to be on this island forever, right?"

Dean chuckled. "If we are," he muttered, "I'm glad that I get to spend 'forever' with you." Dean inched forward, moving toward Emma. Then he noticed something while looking at her bikini.

"What is it?" she asked.

He thought about a shirt of his back in the tree house. "Our clothes are starting to get all ragged and torn." His voice dropped into a somber tone. "If this keeps up, we're going to be walking around naked."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." A teasing smile inched across Emma's face.

Dean flinched, looking a little surprised.

"Seriously, though. I think we can salvage these clothes. Maybe we should just try wearing them a little less often." She eyed Dean with a sensuous look.

Dean placed a loving pat on Emma's leg. "You always come up with such good ideas."

* * *

For just a moment, Emma recalled what people had said during her years in high school. Everyone had always called her special — her sister, her parents, her teachers, and her friends.

The funny thing was, Emma had never believed it. Not until now.

Several girls in the world were pretty and smart. Those qualities didn't make her feel special at all.

Dean made her feel special because he made her feel loved.

And not just loved, but adored and revered.

She stood nude on the beach, locks fluttering in the wind, her hair pinned back in Dean's favorite style. Dean was kneeling before her, muscles toned and tight, firelight gleaming across his skin. She loved seeing him like this, crouched nude on his knee, like a chiseled sculpture delivered to a queen. He was all beauty — and all hers.

Dean's lips touched down on her soft smooth skin, and a pair of quick shivers shot throughout her legs. Emma closed her eyes amidst the wave of delight, toes clutching the sand as her knees went weak.

His tongue began crawling along her thighs, and she dug her hands into his massive shoulders.

Dean eased her to the ground, and continued his journey, thoroughly exploring her with his mouth.

A series of moans began leaving her lips, each coming quickly, one after the other. Emma opened her eyes as Dean wandered about…

Seconds later, her face trembled with glee.

She tightened a fist and turned her head to the side, resting a hand upon one of her breasts.

Dean crawled upward and removed that hand, gently brushing it out of his way.

Emma wrapped her fingers around the back of his head, holding his face in the spot by her heart.

Then she pulled her legs right around his waist, stroking his hair as their rhythm began.

* * *

They watched the waves while laying still on the sand, cuddled together in the center of the beach.

"I love you," Dean said in a happy tone.

Emma smiled, stroking the hand at her heart. "I love you too."


	24. Madly In Love

**"Madly In Love"**

* * *

A bright moon was hanging just over the island. Stars shone boldly amidst the stark black sky.

Emma trembled with excitement at the top of a slope, casting her gaze toward the distant lagoon. She took a deep breath and pulled Dean close, letting out a yelp as they began their slide.

They picked up speed near the end of the slope, then parted as they took off flying through the air. Dean grabbed his knees in the midst of his flight, while Emma extended her arms and legs.

The pair splashed down into the moonlit water, laughing as they swam toward each other's embrace.

Emma held Dean and pressed her mouth against his, their bare chests touching as they slowly kissed.

As their lips separated, and their breathing steadied, Emma saw a twinkle within Dean's eyes. She lowered her voice, making a sweet little whisper. "You always look at me like that."

"Like what?"

Emma pulled her lips into a teasing grin. "Like I'm the kind of girl that you've always wanted or something."

He smiled back, feeling slightly amused. He wasn't aware that he'd been sending that message.

"Am I?" she wondered, beaming a bit.

Dean paused a second as he thought of his answer, then ran his hands along the sides of her face. "Okay. Hear me out," he requested.

Emma nodded, wondering what he would say.

"You're actually not the kind of girl that I always wanted. And believe it or not, that's a very good thing." Dean licked his lips and made a nervous chuckle. "When I was younger, I probably had a less mature view of love."

Emma paused to wonder what he meant — then realized that she might not have to ask. A faint little blush swept over her cheeks. "I probably did too," she quietly admitted.

Dean was taken by surprise. "How so?" he whispered.

She averted her eyes, glancing down at the water. "When I was a girl, I wanted a boyfriend who didn't carry any drama. I figured that I had enough of that at home."

Dean recalled the stories about her family.

"So I hoped to meet a guy with a completely clean slate, who didn't have any real problems himself." A shy smile spread across Emma's face. "I realize now that I was pretty naive, because a person like that doesn't really exist."

Dean thought about his own days as a teen, recalling the ideal partner that he'd imagined back then. "I know what you mean," he slowly mumbled. "Before we met…I didn't want a girl who had a life of her own. I wanted someone who existed to make me feel good."

Emma listened on, sporting a sensitive look.

He stared at her, watching the woman he loved. "With you, I learned that it's not that simple." Dean grinned. "If you're going to be with another person, then you've got to realize that people come with issues."

"Very true," Emma pleasantly replied.

"And I don't have a problem with that," Dean said. "I mean, it wasn't just the pleasant stuff that brought us closer, right? Working through issues helped do that too." He winked at her. "It's all a part of the bonding process."

Emma silently returned Dean's smile.

"The more we bonded, the closer we became."

Emma nodded. "And the closer we became, the more I fell madly in love with you." She held her playful grin on him.

"No, no, no," he teased. "If anyone's madly in love here, it's me." Dean moved forward, wrapping his arms around Emma. "So going back to what you said before…I don't view you as the girl that I 'always wanted' — I just know that you're the one I was meant to be with."

* * *

A curtain of sunlight inched across the beach, brightening the sand from one end to the other.

Emma tugged Dean's shorts slowly down his legs, tossing them aside as he lay on his back. As they faced one another, completely nude, a naughty little smile spread across her face.

She narrowed her eyes, crawling forth like a cat, flattening her naked body atop Dean's.

Dean reached up and brushed Emma's soft cheek, stroking the back of her head as they kissed. A quiet moan escaped him as he held her close, loving the touch of her skin against his.

Emma broke the kiss and sat up on her knees, then felt Dean's hands cover most of her breasts. She closed her eyes, breathing in and out, hearing a light wave crash along the shore.

Before she and Dean had discovered the tree house, Emma had never made love indoors.

These days, she actually preferred being outside when it happened. The connection to nature held a beautiful allure.

They remained on the beach for the whole afternoon, loving each other with all of their hearts.

* * *

Emma walked to the shore and eased down beside Dean, leaning against him as they sat together. "How did your parents meet?" she wondered.

Dean glanced at her, looking a little surprised. "At work," he replied, rather casually. He began gazing outward with a placid stare. "With my dad…pretty much everything revolved around work."

Emma noticed a bit of somberness within Dean's tone. "What do you mean?" she asked, watching him closely.

Dean took a deep breath and released a soft sigh. "I was a loner growing up, but that wasn't always by choice. My parents were busy with their jobs half the time, and I kind of got used to being alone, I guess."

She ran a hand over his familiar brown curls.

"Of course, my dad tried making things right sometimes." Dean wanted to give credit where credit was due. "I remember this day when he made one of those speeches. 'I haven't always been there for you,' and things like that." He grinned a bit as the memory arrived.

Emma smiled as well, her voice going gentle. "From all that you've told me, it's pretty obvious that he always loved you — contrary to what you used to say," she added.

Dean glanced away. "The feeling was mutual," he quietly admitted. "I know that his heart was mostly in the right place. The guy was just a workaholic," he muttered. Dean paused, then turned to Emma. "What's it _like_ being a workaholic?"

Emma flinched in surprise, eyes darting back and forth. "Why would you ask me?" In her heart, she already knew.

"You used to bury yourself in your work too." He stroked his chin, looking her up and down. "What's the drive? What's the motivation?" Dean figured that different people probably had different reasons.

Emma turned forward, her mouth opening a tad. She paused a moment before answering the question.

Dean watched her, listening very closely.

"When I was a teen, I kept telling myself that I didn't want to have regrets once I turned 70, or whatever." Emma licked her lips, feeling her face start to blush. "So, I tried to build the best future possible…while overlooking the present." She still felt that the latter had been a primary flaw.

Dean held quiet, absorbing her words. A part of him was grateful to hear Emma's explanation, while another part of him had a new concern. He looked at his hands, touching his fingertips together. "Do you think that you're _going_ to have regrets when you're 70, Em?"

Emma let her gaze wander across the place they called home, then imagined herself getting elderly here. She watched the dancing waters, the swaying trees, and the beautiful beach sprawled out at her side.

Then she thought about the life that they'd left behind. Both worlds filled her heart with affection.

Emma interlocked her fingers, and blew a lock from her face. "I know that I'll have _some_ regrets when I'm older. And I'm pretty sure that you will too."

Dean slowly nodded, knowing that he would.

"But having regrets is one thing. Being unhappy is another." Emma returned her stare to Dean. "I'll never be unhappy about my life on this island — because you've spent so much time making my life better."

Dean grinned at Emma and held her hand. "I thought that you were the one who did that for me."

Emma smiled back. "Could it be that we've done that for each other?"

Dean nodded, stroking her skin. "I'd say that sums it up pretty well."


	25. Name Three Things

**"Name Three Things"**

* * *

Emma awakened with a shake, clutching a cover to her chest. She let her gaze wander about in the dark, then found Dean sleeping on the floor to her right.

Her stare drifted up to the old brown ceiling. She took a deep breath while recalling her dream.

As a flurry of visions began filling her head, Emma's gaze softened, and her eyes fluttered closed. It wasn't long before a certain thought crossed her mind. _I want my daughters back._

* * *

Emma sat beside Dean on the thick wet sand, settling her eyes on the morning sky.

"So," he said, clapping his hands with a grin. "What's on your mind today?"

Emma chuckled, licking her lips. "I realize that there's something we've never asked each other. It's probably a little late to do this now, but we might as well."

"All ears," he replied, nudging his shoulder against hers.

"You know that famous question about being stranded on an island, right? The one that people use when they're trying to learn what you like?"

Dean shrugged, looking rather playful. "What question is that?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "You know what I'm talking about," she insisted. "Let's say you're having a conversation with someone, and they ask you to name three things you'd want with you if you were stuck on an island."

Dean flashed a quick little grin. "So we're playing that game now?"

"Yeah we are," she teased. "What would your answer be?"

Dean stroked his chin, thinking back on the past. He paused to recall his most valued possessions. As a number of memories came to him, his grin began fading, and his voice went low. "I…" Dean fell quiet, trying to find the right words.

Emma began to notice a shift in his mood. He seemed a bit less pleasant than he was before. She leaned back and placed a hand on her knee, letting him know she was ready to listen.

"Before we came here, I actually _did_ have three favorite things," he remembered. "My car, my surfboard, and my headphones."

Emma nodded, rubbing her shin. "Why were those things your favorites?"

Dean made a slight frown. "Back then, there were times when I didn't really want to be around anyone — and those things provided a means of escape. I could drive to a cliff, and be all by myself. I could go out in the ocean, and be completely alone. Or I could turn the volume up, and make the world go away."

Emma began imagining each of these things. She pictured Dean by himself in those private moments, which left her feeling a little disturbed. She knew that Dean wasn't simply a loner back then. He was a boy who'd been locked in a quiet depression.

"But it's like I said," he continued, "those were my three favorite things as a teen. I wouldn't want any of those things right now — not for the same reasons anyway. I'm not a guy who isolates himself like that anymore." He smiled at Emma and wrapped an arm around her. "Thanks to a certain girl."

Emma grinned back, leaning her head against him.

"So what about you?" he wondered. "If you were on a deserted island — which you happen to be — what three things would you choose?"

Emma turned her gaze to the watery horizon. Her eyes softened a little as she spoke again. "Right now, I wouldn't choose three things, I would choose three people."

"Who?"

"You and our daughters," she answered. "The girls from my dreams."

Dean lifted an eyebrow, recalling their recent discussions. They'd grown rather curious about parenthood lately, but Emma appeared to be incapable of having a child.

He lowered his voice to a gentle whisper. "Are you getting sad about your condition again?"

"No," she murmured, holding his hand.

"Because we're not even sure that you have one, Em."

Emma made a half smile.

"If we had the option right now," Dean said, "maybe we'd try adopting a kid."

Her face brightened a bit. "That would probably be nice," she replied. "I mean, I'd prefer to give birth to a son or a daughter who's a part of us both, but…" Her words trailed off, and she shook her head. "We should probably stop dreaming about this. Sorry I keep bringing it up. I know we resolved it a little while ago."

"It's okay," he said. "You can talk about it as much as you need to." He knew that Emma was a pretty emotional person. Certain issues, like the ones in her family, tended to stick with her for a while.

Emma let a deep breath come and go, then looked Dean straight in the eyes and smiled. "Whether we have a baby or not, I'm happy to have you," she reminded him.

"I'm happy to have you too."

Both knew that the other was aware of this. They just liked saying it from time to time.

Emma recalled the famous question from earlier: What would you want most if you were stuck on an island?

"About that question," she said, "it's interesting that people are supposed to name three things — because I know I can narrow it down to just one."

Dean wore a curious grin. "And that one thing is…?"

"The bond that we've created," Emma warmly said. "Island or no island, our bond is the constant that I wouldn't want to live without."

Dean drew Emma closer. "Me neither."

Emma brushed a hand along Dean's arm, then nuzzled against him as they cuddled together.


	26. A Beautiful Friendship

**"A Beautiful Friendship"**

* * *

A light gray hue spread across the sky. Rain pattered softly along the vast white sand.

Emma sat perched just outside of the tree house, hovering on the platform between the ladder and the door. Dean walked out and took a seat as well, gazing outward at the sights before them. Each of their legs dangled over the edge, raindrops hitting the wood overhead.

Emma lifted her knee and placed a hand on her foot, speaking softly as a thought came to her. "When I was growing up, I always heard about this wishing well in our town," she murmured. "According to this local legend, you could only make wishes that helped other people. Nothing that revolved around you would come true."

Dean stroked his chin in fascination. He'd never heard of this tale himself.

"So I went to the well a few times, and I tested it out." Emma smiled a little. "I wished for my grandpa to recover from an illness, and it happened. I wished for Stacey to pass a school test, and she did. I wished for my dad to get a promotion at his job, and he got it." She shook her head in a bit of awe. "It seemed like any wish within reason was always granted."

Dean lifted an eyebrow, feeling quite surprised. It sounded like a particularly interesting well.

A shy look swept over Emma's face. She fell quiet as a series of memories arrived.

After holding silent for several moments, she lowered her voice, looking down at her lap. "When I got angry at my mom for having an affair…I finally went to that well and made a wish for myself. I wished that I would never, ever have a baby," she revealed. "I knew that my mom wanted to see that happen someday — so I was blatantly wishing to deny her that dream." Emma frowned while recalling the anger she'd felt, then remembered the love she'd shown Barbara as well. "Once me and her made up, I decided that I was okay with having kids one day." Her long stare lingered on the distant sand. "Now it turns out that I can't…and I'm wondering if my wish actually came true," she muttered. "I wonder if I got punished for being so spiteful."

Dean's lips parted as he studied her. Then he wrapped an arm around Emma's waist. "I highly doubt that the universe lashes out at people like you, Em."

Emma looked off. " 'People like me,' " she said. "I'm not perfect."

"Good," Dean teased. "Because you'd probably be kind of boring if you were."

Emma quietly giggled.

"All I'm saying is that it's just a coincidence. And again, we don't know for sure that you can't have kids." He squeezed her and smiled. "The only thing we do know for sure is that I'm always going to love you."

She paused a moment, then turned to him. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of tears.

"What? What is it?"

"You always try and make me feel better, even when I'm not feeling bad." She beamed. "You don't even have to try. Just being around you tends to cheer me up."

"That's what I'm here for," he playfully said.

Emma watched Dean in adoration. "Do you know what I'd wish for if I was at that well right now?"

"What?" Dean wondered, leaning forth with a grin.

"I'd wish that every girl in the world could meet a friend like you." Emma took Dean's hands in hers. "The kind of friend who they'd fall in love with, over and over again."


	27. Parents and Children

**"Parents and Children"**

* * *

Emma walked across the house and joined Dean on the floor. She folded one of her legs, then crossed the other above it, taking his hands as she gathered her thoughts.

"So," he said with a teasing smile. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?" Dean had a good idea of the answer. Emma was focused on one of two things. Either this was about a memory, or it was about a fantasy.

"Just wondering…" she said, brushing her fingers on his. "What if we actually had a baby on the way? Right now."

Dean took a glance at Emma's stomach, pausing to imagine a bump down there.

"How do you think we'd go about raising our kid?"

He found himself feeling a little confused. "What do you mean?" he muttered.

"We've talked about some of the things we'd do — but we hardly ever mention what we _wouldn't_ do." Emma eyed him closely while leaning forth. "What would you try to avoid doing once our child was born? What would be your number 1 rule of parenting?"

Dean flattened his lips and cast his gaze to the floor.

Emma couldn't help but smile a bit.

After about a minute, he found his answer. "I guess I'd worry about spending too much time at work." Dean looked up with sullen eyes. "If we had a child, I know I'd spend all day catching fish, finding wood, and bringing other stuff home for the family. By the time I got back here at night…our kid would probably be fast asleep."

Emma recalled Dean's stories about his own childhood. She eyed him warmly, then held his hand to her cheek. "It wouldn't happen like that," she whispered.

Dean smiled back, appreciating her words. Then he squinted a little while growing curious about something. "What about you?" he quietly asked. "As a mom, what do you think you'd try to avoid doing most?"

Emma paused a few seconds, then grimaced a bit. Her voice had lowered when she spoke again. "If we had _two_ kids…I think I'd worry about favoring one." She moved her shy gaze away from Dean. "When my sister was born, I felt like my parents were ignoring me while adoring her. Over time, I couldn't help but be angry." Emma frowned a little, running a hand through her hair. "So I got their attention the only way I could think of: I started pushing myself to do well in school. I wanted to be the daughter they adored the most." She licked her lips and looked down at her lap. "It eventually worked. And Stacey hated me for it…and for a while, I was actually happy about that."

Dean studied her amidst a cloud of silence. Whenever Emma revealed an issue, past or present, he found himself moved by the courage she displayed. She was fine with admitting that she wasn't perfect.

He wondered if she'd done this with other people, or if it was something that she'd mainly reserved for him.

Emma shrugged while continuing her tale. "Of course, Stacey and I sort of made up later on, and school became less of an ego thing. I honestly liked the learning part." She paused as a sudden thought came to her. Then she lowered her eyebrows and grinned at Dean. "If we actually could begin raising kids on this island, how much education do you think we'd pass on to them?"

Dean quieted a second while stroking his chin. "For starters, I guess we'd show them how to write their names in the sand."

She chuckled at that, seeing the vision in her head.

* * *

Emma cuddled with Dean while watching the stars, holding her gaze on the sky as she spoke. "If you had the chance to write a letter to your dad right now, what would it say?"

Dean took a moment to consider the question. "I'd ask him to find someone who makes him happy, maybe as happy as my mom always did." He felt an old warmth flowing inside of him. "I'd like to think that he's done that by now."

Emma smiled at the thought. "Me too," she said.

Dean stroked her hair appreciatively. "I'd also tell him that he definitely did a good job as a dad, and that I'm always going to love him, no matter what."

She ran her hand along his chest, thinking back to her own childhood. Like many things, it'd had its ups and downs, but there were certainly more positives than negatives involved. "I'd tell my parents that they raised both me and my sister well, and that I'm very touched by the effort they made."

Dean nodded, feeling pleased to hear that. "So." He winked. "If we did have kids, do you suppose they'd say all this mushy stuff about us one day?"

"I know they would," Emma giggled. And then she began to notice something. "I'm not feeling sad about this topic…" she mumbled.

Dean looked at her in surprise.

"I mean, even though we're still not parents, talking about this doesn't upset me anymore. I'm feeling more positive than anything else."

He smiled, giving her a quick little hug.

"We don't have children," she said, "but we have each other, and I'll always be more than happy about that."

Dean held her close. "Me too," he replied.


	28. The Reawakening

**"The Reawakening"**

* * *

Emma stood by the shore on a dark gray evening, watching as Dean scaled a distant tree.

Dean picked a banana and tossed it down to the sand, then made his way toward another batch. Before long, he began looking at Emma, watching her with a casual smile.

Emma grinned, letting out a chuckle, then cupped her hands around her mouth. "What are you staring at?" she called.

"I'm staring at a beautiful girl," he yelled.

She shook her head in a bit of amusement.

Dean reached for a branch, still looking at her. "I was just thinking about that time we- -" He suddenly slipped, and lost his hold on the tree. His hands flailed about, gripping nothing but air.

Dean hit his head amidst the fall — and once again upon reaching the sand.

The world around Emma suddenly came to a stop. Her eyes widened, and she trembled in place. Upon forcing her body to move again, she charged up the beach and rushed over to Dean.

Emma dropped to her knees while screaming his name, getting absolutely no response from him.

A slew of tears began coating her face. She'd never known fright like the kind she knew now.

After about 10 minutes, Emma heard a faint moan.

Dean's weary eyes began fluttering open.

"Dean!" she yelled, watching him in relief. "Are you okay?" A series of gasps flowed out of her mouth.

Dean groaned, pressing a hand to his head. He winced while lifting his gaze to her.

"Dean?" she said, brushing tears from her cheeks.

He sat up a little, swinging his eyes back and forth. "What's going on?" he moaned. "Where…where am I? What is this place?"

Emma froze again, her face quivering with fear.

Dean turned to Emma, looking her straight in the eye. "Who are you?"

* * *

Emma sat against a wall within the old tree house, hugging her knees as she watched Dean sleep. A makeshift bandage covered part of his head, and his back was turned as he lay on his side. He'd been eerily quiet, like the Dean of old, using sleep as a means to avoid conversation.

From what she could tell, he felt tense and confused — which also described Emma's state right now.

Dean had forgotten their entire past. The bond that they'd built. The trust that they'd shared. The things that they'd never told anyone else.

In the span of 10 terrible, frightening minutes, all their years of love had been wiped from his mind.

She hugged her knees tighter, feeling a tear in her eye.

And then she remembered the worst news of all.

She was scared by the thought that he'd forgotten her — but she was horrified that he'd forgotten himself.

If Dean was being Dean, just as plucky as ever, then she could deal with the fact that he didn't know who she was. At least the guy she loved would still be there.

But Dean didn't seem to be himself at all. Her closest friend in life was an absolute stranger.

* * *

Emma woke up to a quiet morning, lifting a hand to block the rising sun. She spotted Dean sitting by a distant wall. His bandage was laying on the floor at his side.

"Dean?" she said, crawling over to him.

He flinched a tad, turning his gaze toward her.

"Are you okay?" she quietly asked.

Dean made a meek little nod in response. His lips fell open, just a crack, and his brown eyes gleamed amidst a vulnerable stare.

Emma hesitated, letting her hopes rise a bit. "Do you remember me now? Do you remember anything?"

He held silent a moment, then shook his head. "Sorry," he answered, sounding like he meant it.

Emma lowered her gaze to the old wood floor. Then she touched Dean's hand and looked up again. "It's okay," she said, running her thumb on his fingers.

Dean squinted in response, glancing down at their hands.

"One way or another…everything's going to be okay." Emma gave him a soothing smile.

Dean blushed a tad and looked away.

"Why don't we take a walk by the shore?" she offered.

"I don't like going outside," he mumbled.

Emma winced, feeling a wave of suspicion. That sounded like something that a hermit would say.

She brushed her thumb on his hand again, holding quiet as she looked at him.

Dean found himself touched by her friendly demeanor, and a part of him wanted to tell her so.

But he chose instead to keep his feelings hidden. He kept things bottled up within.

* * *

Emma sat down in the center of the floor, staring at Dean as he toured the building. The house was small, and fairly simple. She knew he'd get bored in this place soon enough.

Dean moved to the window and studied the beach, running his eyes from one end to the other. Something was beginning to hold his attention — something that he'd noticed last night as well. "Emma?" he murmured, looking over his shoulder.

"Yeah?" she replied, interlocking her fingers.

He frowned a little, then turned to her. "Where are the other people? Where's everyone else?"

Emma froze. Her mouth fell open.

Dean stroked his curls, eyeing her in confusion.

Emma inhaled deeply, then took a long breath. She wasn't sure how he'd handle what she had to say. "Okay…" she uttered. "Come here for a second."

Dean crossed the floor and sat before her, noting the tension within her voice.

"There is no 'everyone else,' " she told him. Emma reached out and took his hands in hers. "You and I are the only ones here."

Dean found no words for around five seconds. His stare had been wandering for most of the morning, but now it simply froze on Emma. "What do you mean?" he quietly asked, listening closely for her response.

"There's no one else," she said once more, reaching upward to stroke his hair. "We're here alone."

Dean paused again, feeling deeply bewildered. "Are we on some sort of vacation or something?"

"No…" she murmured. "Not anymore."

Dean squinted a little. "What do you mean by that?"

Emma held quiet, eyeing him with affection.

"Emma?" Dean stammered, studying her face. "When are the two of us going home?"

She eased her hand along his cheek, speaking softly as she answered him. "That's the thing…" she said. "We are home."

* * *

One hour later, Dean was pacing the floor. "There has to be a way we can leave this island."

Emma watched him closely, holding still in her seat.

"What if a plane or a helicopter passed by here?"

"It wouldn't matter," she muttered. "We don't have any flares."

"Then what if we saw a ship or a boat?"

"We're not fast enough to catch up with one."

"Well maybe we should try building a raft or something."

"Dean…" she said, reaching out toward him.

"If we found a bunch of logs, and tried tying them together- -"

" _Dean_ ," she repeated, taking his hand in hers. Her eyes softened as he looked at her, and she spoke to him in a very sweet voice. "We can't leave," she quietly uttered. "We're going to be here for the rest of our lives. Just you and me."

Dean paused in place, letting the thought sink in.

"It's our reality…I think it's our fate."

As he went on looking into Emma's eyes, something became undeniably clear: she truly believed everything that she'd said — which meant that he had good reason to believe it as well.

After letting a bit of silence linger between them, he took a deep breath, then sat at her side.

Emma watched him with sensitive eyes.

"Why?" he asked, staring down at his lap.

Emma winced, looking a little confused.

"I mean, I'm not saying I believe in fate, but…if it's real…why would it choose this path for us?"

She let her gaze swing away for a moment. "Before we met, we had certain issues," she noted. "You were a hermit who shut everyone out…and I was a dreamer, who never lived in the present."

Dean raised an eyebrow, turning his stare to her.

"I guess that both of us were drifting through life before." She turned to Dean with the warmest of smiles. "But then we bonded, and everything changed."

His eyes brimmed with fascination.

"I think we awakened something within each other. And I figure that's what fate intended."

Dean held silent, absorbing her words. After about a minute, he quietly spoke up. "I guess that answers half my question," he noted. "But even if fate did bring us together, why would fate be keeping us here?"

Emma shook her head and chuckled under her breath. "I've never really figured that part out." She let out a sigh, then lifted her shoulders. "Maybe it's not really fate at all. Maybe it's all just circumstance." She didn't really care, as long as they were together.

Dean's voice dropped into a curious murmur. "Tell me more about this bond of ours." He paused while trying to figure it out. "Are we 'friends' or…or…"

Her gaze softened as she listened on, waiting for him to finish the question.

Dean felt nervous all of a sudden. He blushed a little and turned away.

Emma saw that he was growing tense. She licked her lips, then rose to her feet. "You know what? I'm going to go and get breakfast ready."

Dean nodded, still looking aside.

Emma paused at the door, staring back at him. Then she turned around and left the tree house.

Dean looked down at one of his fingers, holding his eyes on a golden ring.

* * *

Emma returned with a sack full of food. A red scrape was visible upon her knee.

"You're hurt," Dean said, getting up from his seat.

"I'm okay," she answered while stepping inside.

Dean found a wet cloth on a nearby shelf. "Let me help you with that. Just sit over here."

He dropped to his knee and began treating her wound. While he ran the cloth across Emma's leg, a distant memory flashed through his mind. Dean trembled, and his eyes went wide.

"Dean?" Emma paused. "What's wrong?" she wondered.

He lifted his gaze, watching her closely. "I've done this for you before…haven't I?"

Emma's face lit up a little. She recalled the day after their very first kiss.

"I was worried back then," he quietly said. His words came slowly as he looked into space. "I felt like I'd finally found someone who I could really connect with…and I realized how much that meant to me." He shifted his stare to Emma again. "All of a sudden, I didn't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

Emma reached down and held his hands. "Can you remember anything else?" she asked.

A rush of excitement swept through his veins. He wanted more visions like the one he'd just had. It felt like he'd regained a part of himself.

Dean closed his eyes and concentrated. He frowned while willing the memories to arrive.

"It's okay," she whispered. "Don't try too hard."

His eyes opened slowly, and he let out a sigh. The visions he wanted simply wouldn't appear.

Just before he could resume his struggle, he noticed the scrape on Emma's knee again.

Dean clutched the cloth and went back to her leg. He wanted to explore his mind right now, but he felt a strange urge to put Emma first — like it was something that always came naturally to him.

* * *

Once they'd finished up their breakfast, Emma asked Dean if he wanted to dance. Dean replied that he didn't know how, but Emma offered to guide him through it.

They swayed slowly, hand in hand, holding each other as they watched the walls.

Dean trembled again, bringing Emma to a halt. A look of awe spread across his face. "Wait a second…we've done this before too, haven't we?"

Emma pulled back, facing him in surprise. "You remember?" She beamed.

Dean slowly nodded. "We've done this a lot," he said confidently. "But the very first time…it was raining," he noted.

Emma felt a flutter of joy in her heart.

"I was having so much fun," he recalled. "I felt happy to be here — happy to be with you."

* * *

Emma bobbed beside Dean within the blue lagoon. Both were wearing their swimsuits as they drifted together.

She turned Dean to her, floating right before him.

He blushed a little, but kept his eyes on hers.

"Do you remember when we realized we'd be here for a while?" Emma smiled. "Do you remember what you told me about life on this island?"

Dean hesitated, looking off for a moment. He closed his eyes, then opened them again.

And that was when Emma finally saw it. She saw a look in Dean's eyes that she'd seen before — when he'd teased her, massaged her, and held her close. It was the same look that he wore when they shared their stories, the same look that he wore when they did nothing at all.

The look in Dean's eyes could mean only one thing: she'd been reunited with the man she loved.

Dean grinned, pulling Emma close. "I said that I'd come to view all of this as a gift…simply because of the bond we'd built." He felt a wave of joy as his memory returned. "I remember everything about our bond now, Em. And I know that it's even stronger today than it was back then."

She sobbed with glee and wrapped her arms around Dean, feeling tremendously grateful to have him back.

Dean felt more touched than he could possibly say. He'd never been closer to anyone than Emma. His love for her had snapped him out of a trance — just as it had when they'd first come here. She'd awakened something within him again.

He let his gaze wander around the island, then recalled the discussion that they'd had in the tree house. "This is a place where we can experience our love to the fullest. Maybe that's why we've been here so long. Maybe this really is a gift from fate."

Emma pulled back and smiled at Dean. "Fate or not, it's our reality," she said. "And I couldn't be happier about that now." She held Dean's face, drawing him close, and the two shared a kiss within the bright blue water.


	29. Cuddling

**"Cuddling"**

* * *

"We should do this more often," Dean suggested, holding Emma close on the carpet of leaves. "More often during the day, I mean."

"Sounds fine to me," Emma crooned, her bare chest pressed against his own.

"Wasn't this your fantasy growing up?" He winked. "Cuddling with your lover during a rainy day?" He saw a curtain of sunlight over by the window. "I mean, I know it's not raining right now, but this was the sort of thing you used to dream about, right?"

Emma nodded. "When I wasn't dreaming about a 'perfect' future." She paused to recall her old fantasy life. "Perfect house. Perfect job. And anything else I could possibly want." Emma let herself giggle a bit.

Dean brushed his fingers along the back of her neck. "You've never really told me what you wanted to be." He recalled her getting shy when he'd asked years ago. "What kind of career were you chasing, Em?"

Emma licked her lips, then felt a grin cross her face. "I was heading for law school," she quietly said.

"You wanted to be a lawyer?"

"I wanted to be a judge."

Dean winced in surprise. "Being a lawyer seems more fun," he noted. "That's why networks put all those lawyer shows on TV."

Emma shrugged, chuckling under her breath. "Well, back in those days…I guess no one could accuse me of wanting to have fun."

Dean laughed himself, then squeezed her a tad. "So why did you want to be a judge?" he wondered.

She recalled some of the fantasies that she'd had as a teen. "I think I just liked the idea of helping others out, you know? Listening to issues, offering solutions, making a difference…keeping people in line." Emma smirked at that. "I guess I liked the thought of maintaining _order_." She remembered waking up and doing that around her household. "And I liked the thought of changing lives for the better."

Dean smiled. "Sort of like what you did for me," he noted.

"And just like what you did for me," she replied. Emma nestled her feet between both of Dean's. "So what about you?" she asked with a grin. "I mean, I know that you were planning to work with your dad, but what else did you have in mind?"

He circled a hand between her shoulders. "I think I might have tried to make it in pro soccer. Like I said, that sport was a fun way to open up and be the real me."

"And who, exactly, is the real Dean McMullen?" She grinned and nuzzled her nose against his.

"The guy who I am whenever I'm with you. It's been that way since the very beginning."

Emma swooned, inching a palm down his back. "You're right. We _should_ do this more often," she said. She let her hands wander across Dean's skin. "The fact is you and I chat all the time, but we should make more of an effort to combine it with cuddling."

Dean placed a quick little kiss on her nose. "I guess that's the best way for lovers to talk."


	30. Reflection

**"Reflection"**

* * *

"I wonder if we've been here a decade yet," Emma murmured while looking out at the waves.

"I don't think so," Dean said while sitting beside her, sounding more than a little curious himself. He clasped his hands and rubbed them together. "But what if we had…and we knew it somehow? You think we'd do anything special?" he wondered.

Emma shrugged, flashing a faint little smile. "I guess we'd take some time to look back on it all. After a decade, people pause to reflect."

Dean leaned his head against her shoulder. "Is that what you've been doing lately?"

She grinned again, tapping her head against his. "Sort of," she muttered, letting the memories arrive. "Maybe we _haven't_ been together a whole decade yet, but no point in waiting to review everything."

He straightened himself, thinking back as well. "What have you been reflecting on?"

Emma paused to remember their days as students. "How come you never wanted to talk to me in school?" she whispered.

Dean squirmed, making an awkward expression.

Her face brightened as she turned to him. "I mean look at how much we've bonded here."

He felt a tad shy while running a hand through his hair. "It's not that I didn't want to, remember? I just wasn't really sure what to say," he muttered.

Emma giggled and looked toward the water. "Most people start with 'hi,' " she noted.

Dean turned to her and flashed a playful grin. "Hi," he said, then shrugged his shoulders. "Better late than never, right?"

She nodded slowly, chuckling under her breath.

"On that note, I don't think we've ever shaken hands either," he mentioned.

Emma beamed and extended her palm.

Dean smiled back, and happily shook it.

Her thoughts began swaying toward another period. She lowered her voice while remembering it. "Back when we first showed up here, all I could really think about was leaving this place." She cast her stare toward the gold horizon. "At first, I couldn't wait to get out there and chase my goals again…"

Dean recalled all their talks about Emma's ambitions.

"But then I just started to miss my family," she uttered. Emma felt a flutter of warmth inside. "Looking back, I can see that my main reason for being discontent here was love." She turned to Dean, eyeing him with affection. "But that was the reason I _became_ content here as well."

He reached over and held her hand, feeling deeply moved by what she'd said.

She again thought back to when they'd first shown up. Dean was swimming around and having fun from the start. "What if you'd come here alone somehow? What do you think your reaction would've been?"

Dean touched his chin. "I think I would've been happy for the first few days…but I would've gotten pretty sad after that."

Her eyes softened a little.

"It's like I said before, I would've just viewed this as some sort of punishment, instead of as a gift." He turned to her again. "Having you here made all the difference, Em. You're the _only_ reason I'm content in this place."

Emma grinned brightly as she started to blush. She'd never heard Dean point that part out.

"I would've been perfectly fine if we'd actually left this island." He shrugged. "You never know. We still could someday. It really doesn't matter where we live. What matters is that we live there together."

Emma leaned toward Dean and wrapped her arm around him.

Dean returned her affection as they watched the sun set.


	31. Family Affairs, Part One

**"Family Affairs" – Part One**

* * *

Emma lay on her back while looking up at the sky, beads of sweat running across her face. A number of pants flowed out of her mouth. Dean was crouching by her feet on the sand. As the bump in her stomach made a notable shift, Emma knew in her heart that this meant only one thing: she was about one minute away from giving birth to their baby.

One year ago, following a memorable dream, she'd abandoned her hopes of ever having a child. She'd made herself believe that the matter was resolved.

Unless she was dreaming again right now, her previous conclusions were obviously wrong.

She felt another movement — more aggressive this time. She winced a little, and her eyes went wide.

Emma recalled a passage from a parenting guide, one she'd opened up as a curious child. She remembered exactly what the book had said:

" _You're about to begin the most emotional, defining journey of your life. Day after day, year after year, this will teach you who you are in ways that nothing else can."_

Emma quivered while applying those words to herself. She was seconds away from motherhood. Billions of women had embarked on this journey…and now she was about to begin it as well. She felt nervous and excited, all at once.

She paused to wonder if she'd make a good parent — once again, at the very last minute.

A series of questions flowed through her head, the same ones she'd found herself asking before.

The first one concerned an old issue of hers: Could she manage her anger when the need arose?

Emma was confident that the answer was _yes_. Her fiery outbursts had largely been tamed. She knew she'd be tested again at some point, but she wouldn't let anger get the better of her.

The next question struck another personal chord: If she and Dean had a second baby someday, would each of the siblings feel equally loved?

Emma knew what jealousy could do to a child. Her sister had felt it, and she had as well. It had taken several years for her and Stacey to bond — but that wouldn't be the case with any kids of her own. Each would get the same level of affection from the start.

The final question felt deeply familiar; it was something she'd wondered for quite some time: Once their child knew about civilization, would the kid start longing to leave this place? Would they grow as frustrated as she once was?

Ultimately, she didn't believe that they would. They'd surely grow curious about the world out there, but they'd view the island as where they belonged.

Just before she could meditate further, Emma felt her stomach shifting again. This was it. The moment had come.

She trembled while locking her gaze on Dean, who was fidgeting in place while rubbing her shins.

Dean's chest was bare, and his brow was damp. His shaky stare was filled with panic.

She sensed his tension, and raised her palm…assuring him that she was perfectly fine.

She tried to be tough. She tried to be strong. But she found that she could only be human right now. A couple of tears slid down her cheeks. Tension covered her reddened face.

Her eyes slammed shut, and her mouth went wide. An ongoing wail crept out of her throat.

Dean couldn't stop his body from shaking. He took a deep breath, then rose a little. "You can do this, Em. I'm right here," he stammered.

Emma wailed on as her body quivered.

"The two of us have been through so much on this island. We're going to get through this as well."

Emma's screaming simply continued.

"Push, Em…" Dean pleaded.

She went on wailing…but tightened her fists.

"Push!" he said, eyes locked on her, the word breaking into a distorted echo.

Emma heard the plea once, then heard it again. The world around her grew faint and hazy. Time slowed, and sound faded — her mouth widening, her fists shaking.

She opened her eyes, and summoned all of her strength.

Dean lowered his gaze…then froze in shock…

And in the next few seconds, something wondrous happened.

A third person arrived on the island — the child that was leaving her mother's body.

Dean shivered in amazement while touching the baby. A brand new phase of his life was beginning. For the past eight years, he'd been many things: first a loner, then a listener, then a healer, and now a lover.

He'd had a hard time envisioning himself as a father, but that was exactly what he'd just become.

Dean eased the child into his grasp. He opened his mouth, but could find no words.

Emma's eyes overflowed with tears and awe. The fabled journey had finally dawned. To her surprise, she wasn't nervous now. It felt like life had prepared her for this.

She'd learned to be disciplined as Emma the daughter. She'd learned to be sensitive as Emma the sister. She'd learned to be affectionate as Emma the lover.

And she'd need all of those traits as Emma the mother.

"Dean…" she said, calling him gently.

Dean looked up, eyeing her with love.

Emma's stomach began to move again. "I think there's another one coming," she said.

* * *

Dean sprawled out on his side before Emma, watching her closely with a constant smile.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"Our very first night on this island," he said, recalling their conversation back then. "Right now…I'm remembering that girl fiddling around with her little containers — and how I had no clue that she'd change my life." Dean eyed the fraternal twins in her arms, watching them both with unabashed affection. Then he shifted his gaze to the woman he loved, who'd now become the mother of his children. "You are the most amazing woman I've ever met," he whispered.

Emma narrowed her eyes and flashed a playful smile, cradling the girls as they wriggled about. A makeshift playpen sat at their side, but Emma hadn't come close to using it yet.

The new mother felt filled with an incredible warmth. Her eyes glowed brightly amidst a soft little joy. If this was a dream, she wanted to sleep a bit longer. "I don't know what I did to deserve you and these girls, but I'm happier now than I've ever been," she said.

Dean crawled forth and held their older child. The girl slept quietly within his hands.

Emma cradled their younger daughter, who was glancing about with drowsy eyes.

The parents placed kisses on their children's heads, then turned and happily kissed each other.

* * *

Emma walked through the tree house while stringing up ornaments, casting a glance at one of her three-year-old daughters.

Lilli wore an outfit made from old white sheets, her fingers twirling her short blonde hair.

Emma wondered sometimes if she was dreaming again. How had the past few years gone by so soon? She took a deep breath, and let out a sigh. If she was having a dream, then there was probably a reason. And if she was awake, then her dreams had come true. Either way, she felt incredibly gifted.

Emma tightened her apron and flipped her ponytail back, her bare feet sinking into the leafy carpet. She recalled seeing Barbara sport this look long ago, and couldn't help but chuckle at the resemblance they shared. Emma totally felt like a mother right now.

A soft little murmur cut through the silence, easing Emma right out of her trance. "Can we go swimming later?" Lilli asked all of a sudden, a hint of hope brimming within her gaze.

Emma glanced at her, then turned back to her work, eyeing the ornaments with a tranquil smile. "Yes. We can go swimming later." Emma thought of how often Lilli asked this question. "You really like swimming, don't you?" she mentioned.

Lilli made a series of quick little nods. "And racing and singing and dancing too." She felt it was best to note all of those things — just in case her mother had somehow forgotten. Then she paused a second, and looked Emma over, a bit of fascination creeping into her stare. "Did you like to go swimming when you were growing up here?"

Emma grinned a tad, wriggling her nose. "I didn't grow up here, Lilli," she murmured. "Me and your dad grew up somewhere else." She remembered telling her children this story before.

Lilli studied Emma with curious eyes. "Was it fun living there?" she quietly wondered.

The young mother let out an amused little chuckle. "Sometimes," she said, pulling a rope in a knot. "But I didn't usually _try_ to have fun back then. It didn't really fit into my schedule," she mumbled. She held silent a moment, brushing a hand on her chin. Then she turned around, and eyed the girl with a smile. "But now that I'm here, with all of you…things are quite a bit different," she said. Emma crossed the floor and stood before her daughter.

Lilli looked her over, pondering that. "I guess we're both having fun now, Mommy," she uttered.

Emma bent down and gave Lilli a hug, beaming softly as she closed her eyes.

* * *

Dean knelt beside Sarah on the soft white sand. Their latest castle was almost done. "So why are you so quiet today?" he asked.

Sarah held her eyes downward, calmly studying their work. "I lost another race to Lilli," she mumbled. She ran a hand over her long brown hair, which was bundled up in the usual bun. "She's getting better than me at everything," she announced.

Dean grinned at her, suppressing a chuckle. "You know that's not true," he calmly said. "Both of you do a lot of things well." Dean refrained from getting specific. He wanted Sarah to come up with something herself.

She glanced outward for a second, then looked down and held quiet.

Dean calmly waited, studying his daughter.

Moments later, her frown disappeared. "You're right," she said, her voice rising a bit. "I can do pretty good cartwheels," she noted.

"There you go." Dean nodded. "You do _great_ cartwheels."

"And I write good letters in the sand too, right?"

"That you do," he said affirmatively.

Sarah began to smile a little.

"See how _talking_ about things can help you feel better? You shouldn't keep pain bottled up," he told her. Dean's gaze slowly drifted away. "I used to do that sometimes when I was a kid."

Sarah looked down at her twiddling fingers. "When did you stop doing it?" she wondered.

Dean grinned again. "When I met your mom."

* * *

Hours later, Sarah exited the tree house and hopped down from the ladder, seeing the others laying about on the distant sand. She cupped both hands right around her mouth, searching for something playful to say. "You people must love getting wet. You're about to get caught in the rain again."

Emma glanced over at Sarah, then looked to the sky. Within a few moments, a steady drizzle had begun. The young mother smiled at her daughter's talent. She was getting pretty good at predicting the weather.

As Sarah began climbing the ladder again, Dean cupped the back of Lilli's head. "Go ahead inside with your sister, kiddo. Me and your mom will be there soon."

About a minute later, Lilli scaled the ladder and bounced into the home.

Sarah glanced up at her twin from the floor.

"I saw your castle," Lilli said. She paused a moment, then put her pride aside. "I think it looks better than the one I made."

Sarah winced in surprise, then quietly spoke. "Thanks," she replied, warmly eyeing her sister. Lilli had a maturity that Sarah seemed to admire.

"What is it?" Lilli asked amidst the silence.

"Nothing," Sarah calmly replied.

Lilli stared, then shrugged a bit. "You always say 'nothing' when it's really something," she said. "Sometimes, you kinda keep things to yourself."

* * *

As the twins finished up the last round of a game, Emma rose from the floor and rubbed both their heads. A familiar statement left her mouth. "You two get ready for bed," she said sweetly. Just before the girls could step away, Emma embraced both amidst a playful grin.

Dean looked on with an affectionate stare, taking a moment to admire the family he'd gained.

After the kids had fallen asleep, Dean and Emma began cuddling beneath their cover. Both grinned in silence, simply watching the other.

Then they drew each other close, and shared a loving kiss.


	32. Family Affairs, Part Two

**"Family Affairs" — Part Two**

* * *

"Mommy?" Lilli murmured.

"Yeah?" Emma said.

The little girl shifted a bit on her cot. "Are we ever going to the other place?"

Emma brushed back a lock, looking a little confused.

"The place where you and Daddy used to live?"

Emma smiled a bit, then looked down at her work. "I'm afraid not," she answered, folding a small white shirt. "Why are you so curious about that place lately?"

Lilli licked her lips, throwing a glance at the floor. "You said that you used to try going there all the time."

Emma grinned warmly at her daughter's memory.

"I guess I was kinda wondering why."

Emma looked toward the window, a breeze ruffling her hair. "I usually wanted to go back for a couple of reasons. I missed having a family, and I missed chasing my dreams." She tossed a sweet look at her daughter again. "But now I've got a new family…and I've got new dreams." Emma paused while picturing those very visions. "I want to watch you and your sister grow up. I want to see the two of you become strong women."

* * *

Sarah bent down beside her latest sand castle, making little adjustments as she moved about.

"Has she been at it all morning?" Emma asked, sitting with Dean as they watched from afar.

"That she has," Dean replied, wrapping an arm around Emma's back.

Emma chuckled a bit, eyeing the girl with a grin. "Kid sure likes being by herself, it appears." She leaned her head against Dean's strong chest. "I think we know where she gets that from."

Dean blushed, making a shy little giggle. "She's got a good deal of you in her too."

Emma lifted an eyebrow, glancing up in surprise.

"Haven't you noticed?" Dean asked. "Every castle she builds is bigger than the last. I think she likes setting goals…and achieving them."

Emma paused a moment — then smiled again. A slow wave of excitement swept over her face, and she began studying Sarah with a great deal of affection.

One minute later, Sarah saw a shadow creeping over her spot. She cast her gaze upward, and spotted her mother.

"Hey, kiddo," Emma said. "Can I help you with that?"

Sarah blushed, and simply nodded in silence. Then she broke into a smile as Emma hugged her deeply. "What was that for?" the little girl giggled.

"For being adorable," Emma replied. She placed a quick kiss on Sarah's head, then sprawled out a bit as they constructed the castle.

* * *

Emma snuggled with Dean while looking up at the stars, their discarded clothes laying about on the sand.

Sarah and Lilli were sleeping up in the tree house, which now had a door, with a bell that was found.

Emma planted a smooch on Dean's sleeping face, then looked back to the sky with a calm expression.

* * *

Lilli awakened to a bright new day, finding that Sarah was already up. "Hey," she said.

Sarah nodded at her.

Lilli stretched out a little, throwing a glance at the window. Emma and Dean were making everyone's breakfast. She let out a yawn, then moved toward the door.

Sarah hesitated, her mouth hanging open. "…Want to go swimming later?" she quietly offered, letting her gaze inch across the floor.

Lilli flinched, curiously eyeing her sister. She appeared to be wondering if she'd heard things right. "Seriously?" she said, using a word she'd picked up. "Don't you want to spend the day by yourself, or something?"

Sarah shrugged, interlocking her fingers.

Lilli's lips parted, then she blushed a little. "O-Okay." She nodded. "If you want to."

Sarah brushed back her hair, then moved across the floor.

Both sisters smiled while walking out together.


	33. Family Affairs, Part Three

**"Family Affairs" — Part Three**

* * *

Emma stood by the coast and held her gaze on the waves, her large baby bump reaching out toward the shore. A calm wind lifted her short ponytail, the rest of her hair hanging down her shoulders.

Lilli and Sarah were crawling about on the beach, barely interacting while they played in the sand.

As a brand new chapter of her life drew near, Emma found herself pausing to reflect once again. She recalled what her dreams back in high school had been: she would get through law school, go to work as a judge, and spend year after year toiling away in a courtroom.

That was her vision. That was her plan. But things didn't always go _according_ to plan. It appeared that her path had gone according to fate.

She had very little doubt about her fate right now: she was meant to live her life on this island with Dean. And it seemed they were meant to build a family as well.

Unless, of course, her suspicions were correct, and she happened to be having a dream again.

Emma couldn't help but question that sometimes. Everything seemed to be happening so fast.

Just as she was about to continue her thoughts, she stumbled in place, lifting a hand to her stomach…

Moments later, Emma spoke with a stammer. "Girls…" she said, throwing a tense gaze about. "I need you to go and get Daddy, all right?"

Sarah and Lilli eyed their mom in surprise. Each of them noticed the shake in her voice.

"Tell him that it's time," Emma said, knowing she was about to give birth again.

* * *

Dean sat down beside his two-year-old son, watching a breeze ruffle his short brown hair. Both were bare-chested, and donned in shorts. He handed the boy a small coconut shell, and the pair leaned backward while sipping their water.

10 seconds later, William glanced at the woods. "Are we going back out there to get more sticks?"

"We're pausing to take a break now," Dean said.

William relaxed — then looked back up. His voice grew eager as he eyed the trees. "When will the break be over?" he asked.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a workaholic…like your grandpa was." A calm little smile spread over his face.

"What's a workaholly?" William asked.

"A person who's always looking to work."

William glanced down and studied his knees. "I want to do nice things for people," he muttered. "For Mommy, Lilli, Sarah…and you."

Dean's smile grew a bit brighter now. He paused while eyeing his son with affection. "You work all the time because you like to help others." He brushed a slow hand across William's head. "I'm getting real proud of you, kid," he added.

William stared at the sand, trying to hide his smile.

* * *

Lilli and Sarah crawled about on the beach, quietly working on a new sand castle. Every time Lilli ran into a problem, Sarah provided a welcome solution.

"Like this," Sarah uttered, demonstrating technique.

"…Thanks," Lilli told her, seeing a notable difference.

Sarah nodded a little and continued her work.

One minute later, Lilli ended the silence. "I like it when we do stuff together like this."

Sarah held quiet, then calmly spoke up. "I do too," she had to admit.

A slow blush crept across Lilli's face. "How come we don't do things like this all the time?"

Sarah began to grow shier now. "When we were littler…" She hesitated. "I wanted Mommy and Daddy to like me better than you."

Lilli opened her lips while glancing up at her twin.

"But Mommy said I was wasting my time. She told me she'd never like either of us more."

Lilli's look of surprise began fading now. "I heard Daddy say the same thing," she mentioned.

Sarah paused again, quietly eyeing her sister, then shrugged her shoulders and looked aside. "I don't want to be better than you anymore. I don't really think I like fighting," she mumbled.

Lilli shook her head. "I don't either."

Sarah stared back, watching Lilli with fondness.

Just then, the twins' little brother appeared. "Can I help with the castle?" he politely asked.

"Sure," Lilli said, giving William his space.

* * *

Hours later, Dean, Emma, and each of their children were sprawled about around a gentle fire. The group was playing the 'um' game tonight.

"Name five fruits," Dean said with a smile, shifting his gaze to William now.

William paused, then looked to the stars. "Bananas…apples…pears…um…"

Everyone chuckled.

"You said 'um,' " Lilli teased.

A nodding Emma turned her stare to Sarah. "Name four things that your sister does well."

Sarah responded with confidence. "Swimming, fishing…" She flattened her lips. "…Um…"

All of the others chuckled again.

Once the game had reached its end, the group went inside, and got ready for bed.

Emma grinned while tucking William in. "Did you have fun earlier on with Daddy today?"

William nodded, his voice going low. "He can do strong things that I can't do." He frowned a tad. "I should have helped him more."

She giggled at his passion for working hard. "Know your limits," she calmly said.

"What does that mean?" he meekly uttered.

"You can't always do what you're trying to do." She rubbed his hair. "And you know something? That's _okay_. Sometimes you just have to be proud of what you _can_ do well."

He paused a moment, then slowly nodded.

"You can show me some of those things tomorrow, all right?" Emma placed a kiss on her son's forehead, then stepped away after he'd fallen asleep.

* * *

Emma lay on her side while gazing up at the ceiling, part of her hair fastened back in a clip. The kids were sleeping by the opposite wall, each of them nestled in cots and covers. Dean dozed off while rubbing her feet, his gentle hand still holding one. She brushed a thumb over her thoughtful face, pausing to remember her childhood.

Simply put, she'd grown from a normal girl in a modern house, to a jungle mother in a brown tree hut.

She nodded a bit, letting a calm thought come. _So this is it..._ she said in her mind. _This is the life that I'm destined for._

And Emma was satisfied with that.

She'd never really settled in back in the city. She was always looking at the road ahead.

That wasn't the case on the island, however. She'd actually come to like where she was. She'd said this to Dean after a few months here, and it was still true now, all these many years later. Her heart had longed for the past at times, but she'd never swap that for what she'd gained in the present.

She treasured her husband, her beautiful children, and the fun bonding moments that all of them shared. She cherished the island, the crashing waves, and the constant massage of the sand on her toes.

While living here, she'd grown content — and from that truth, she'd reached a conclusion: this peaceful little land truly was her home. In a figurative sense, it always had been. And in reality, it always would be.

Emma crawled downward, taking Dean in her arms. He briefly awakened, eyeing her with a grin. They quietly chatted and shared a few kisses, then Dean drifted off to sleep once more.

Emma smiled while stroking his hair, lifting her eyes to the ceiling again. Her thoughts moved back to the day they'd arrived, when she'd wondered exactly where this journey would lead.

She'd never expected a happily-ever-after, but it seemed she'd actually gotten one. And if she hadn't, this was close enough.


	34. Family Affairs, Part Four

**"Family Affairs" — Part Four**

* * *

"If we could leave right now…do you think we would?"

Emma lifted an eyebrow and turned to Dean, asking him to repeat the question.

"Let's say a boat drifted up on the shore today, and the crew could take us back to civilization." Dean sprawled out on the sand beside her. "Would we gather up the children and leave this island?"

Emma closed her eyes and stroked her brow, holding quiet a moment as she pondered that thought. Then she let out a sigh, and looked toward the water. "Being a parent means putting your child first."

Dean nodded, running a hand on her knee.

"This is the only home our kids have ever known. If we took it away…" Emma had to pause. "Well, we both know how tough it is to go through a change like that…even when you're with someone you love." She reached down and touched Dean's hand. After about a minute, she spoke again. "I guess my answer is no. I don't believe we'd choose to leave."

Dean began stroking Emma's fingers. "What if we had a phone here, and you could call your mother? What if she wanted you to come back?"

Emma hesitated, then spoke softly. "I guess I'd have to tell her the same thing I've told you. As a parent, I need to do what's best for our children…and what's best for our children is to keep them here."

Dean watched Emma with admiring eyes.

Emma smiled at him, then placed a kiss on his lips.

* * *

A little later, Emma strode by Dean as they walked on the beach, steadily moving in opposite directions. "I think you need to have that talk with our daughters."

"On it. I think you need to have that talk with our son."

"Deal."

The two slapped hands while continuing their strides.

Within moments, Emma was crouching before William while rubbing his shoulders. "So. I heard that you couldn't get all the work done today, and that you and Daddy will have to finish it tomorrow."

William nodded slowly, holding his stare on the ground.

"Are you feeling like you let everyone down somehow?"

He nodded again, keeping his small mouth closed.

"When I was a kid, I thought I had to do everything 'perfectly' too."

He lifted his head, looking a tad surprised.

"But the truth is, I was wrong about that." She stroked his face. "It's good that you want to help your family…but you've got to stop being a workaholic, William. You've got to learn to loosen up — just like I did."

William watched her in silence, then straightened himself. "Okay, Mommy," he quietly said.

Emma grinned, wrapping her arms around him.

* * *

"So how did the talk with Sarah and Lilli go?" Emma swung both feet into Dean's strong hands.

"Pretty well," Dean said, giving her a massage. "They smiled and went back to playing together." He quietly chuckled. "I have this strange feeling that we'll have a new issue to deal with next week, though."

Emma giggled a little, looking up at the sky. "I guess that's parenthood."

Dean grinned as well. "I guess it is."


	35. Family Affairs, Part Five

**"Family Affairs" — Part Five**

* * *

Lilli sat by her mother on the sandy coast, gazing outward at the endless sea. The twins had now reached the age of 14; William was a sporty 10-year-old.

Lilli stood up and clenched her fists, her blonde hair fluttering about in the breeze. "We've got to do it." She studied the water. "We've got to leave this place and reach your city somehow."

Emma glanced off while rolling her eyes. "That's crazy talk, Lil." She chuckled a bit. "How many times have we had this discussion?"

A wave of frustration entered Lilli's stare. "Why do you always brush this off?"

"Because I've already told you that it just can't happen." Emma stroked her temple — then her smile went away. "This is what I was dreading on the day you were born. I was afraid that you and Sarah would become like _me_ , that you'd become the person who I used to be...always looking to the future, discontent with the present."

Lilli bent down and looked Emma in the eyes. "Your mother told you to dream big and go far — which is just what you did while you were my age. You made plans. You set goals. What's wrong with me wanting to do that too?"

"My situation was entirely different. I had greater opportunities than you do now." She took Lilli's hands. "I know that you're at that age when kids get ambitious, but this isn't a place where we can dream big. This isn't a place where we can go far."

The girl's stare became moody. "So what is it then? A place where we're supposed to sit around all day?"

"No." Emma frowned defensively. "This is a place where we can have _fun_. Where we can bond with each other. Where we can do some exploring every once in a while — both on the island, and within ourselves. This is where we can learn to let go of the things we _don't_ have, and come to appreciate what we do."

Lilli pulled away. "I _do_ appreciate what I have." She stormed off in a huff. "But there's nothing wrong with me wanting more."

* * *

Sarah leaned down and tapped William's shoulder, her long brown hair pulled up in a bun. "Come on," she muttered. "I need a little manpower."

He rolled his eyes, then flexed his broadening arms. "What are you up to this time?" he whined.

Sarah had become quite the handy-girl. She didn't limit herself to sand castles anymore. These days, she was constructing pool floats, play swings, long hammocks, work tools, and a variety of other things she could make in her sleep. "I've been studying the tree house," Sarah revealed. "I think I've finally figured out just how it was made."

William hesitated, rubbing his short brown hair. "I'm afraid to ask, but how do I fit into this?"

"I've found some similar logs in the forest. I need your help collecting them."

William sighed.

"Come on, you used to love going out to gather stuff when you were little."

"That was before you got a million ideas in your head." He rolled his shoulders and flashed a pouty smile. "Lead the way, my brilliant sister."

* * *

Lilli sat cross-legged while eyeing the sand. "I remember some of the stories you've told me," she murmured. "When you were around my age...you weren't always content with the life you had. There were times when you wanted a _change_ , right?"

Dean giggled a bit while stroking his chin.

"I mean, that's why you were so happy to come here...right?"

"Kind of."

She shifted a little. "Well it's the same for me."

"It's not the same, Lilli. I was feeling lonely. I was feeling depressed. You don't have reason to feel that way, kiddo."

"I'm not _depressed_ over the present. I'm..." She flashed another long frown, then picked herself up. "No one seems to understand what I'm saying." She spun around and marched away.

"Wait a minute," Dean said. "It's not that I don't understand, I just..."

Lilli pushed on, seeing Sarah approach. She stormed past her sister without a word.

Sarah glanced backward, watching Lilli's sprint. She shook her head for a second, then looked toward Dean. "Me and William are working on something. Can you help us gather things from the woods?"

"Sure," he said, popping up on the sand.

* * *

A little later, Lilli approached her sister alone on the beach.

Sarah was measuring rope and wood, her calm eyes firmly fixed on her work.

Lilli plopped down across from her. "So I've been thinking about trying to leave this island..."

Sarah continued her tasks, offering no response.

"And I just thought...maybe you could help me build a boat or something."

Sarah glanced up, eyeing her sister plainly, then lowered her gaze to her work again.

Lilli began looking a little tense. "You wouldn't have to actually travel in it. I'll go out on my own, and bring back help."

Sarah sighed. "Don't you remember that story they told us? Remember what happened when they tried that before?"

"Yeah, but you're way better than they are at building things."

"It doesn't matter. A raft won't hold up in those waters, and even if it does, there's no guarantee of finding people out there."

Lilli moaned. "Come on, sis. We've got to have faith. We have to try."

Sarah gathered her pieces and stood. "If you want to do this, you're doing it without me. I'm not going to help you kill yourself." She turned around and walked away.

Lilli held her head and released a sigh.

* * *

"Lilli," Emma said, giving her daughter a shake.

Lilli awakened with drowsy eyes.

"Come on." Emma smiled. "We've got a surprise for you."

The girl looked utterly bewildered now. She slowly rose and followed her mother.

Once they'd arrived in a wide green field, Lilli paused to marvel at the sights before her. Several squares of bamboo were lined up on the grass, each of them about only three feet tall. They looked a little like playpens, only quite a bit bigger. A few other constructs were scattered about, most in the shapes of tents and circles.

Dean was standing in the center of them all. Sarah and William were present as well.

Lilli glanced at Emma, then turned back to the others. "I don't understand. What is this?"

Emma grinned. "Since we can't take _you_ to a city, we're bringing a city to you. These are the foundations for some huts that we're building. It was Sarah's idea."

Lilli gazed forward, eyeing Sarah in awe. She got a look of calmly affection in return.

"I was surprised too," Emma giggled. "But I guess I shouldn't have been. You've been talking about cities for so long now. Looks like you'll finally get a chance to walk around in one." She eyed the constructs with glee. "I'm excited about this myself." Emma shifted her loving gaze to Sarah, who watched her mother with a similar warmth.

Lilli stepped forth, and joined the others. "This is..." Her words trailed off as she looked around. "This is going to be great." She fixed her eyes on Sarah again. "Thank you," she said, her calm smile quivering.

Sarah nodded. "You're welcome."

Lilli turned to William and Dean. "Thank you too." She faced Emma. "Thank you all — not just for this..." Her shy gaze fell to the ground. "Thanks for everything else."

Dean wrapped an arm around Emma. "Everything else?"

Lilli looked back up at them. "Thanks for being family. Thanks for being friends." She let her soft smile linger a bit. "Whether we finish this village or not, thanks for making the present worth living in."


	36. Family Affairs, Part Six

**"Family Affairs" — Part Six**

William plopped down beside Lilli and Sarah, helping them finish their latest castle.

Emma sat right behind Dean on the sand, rubbing his shoulders as they watched from afar. "If all of us were living in civilization, what kinds of careers would the kids pursue?"

Dean lifted an eyebrow, then flashed a smile. "Lilli would be a successful swimmer, Sarah would work as an architect...and William..." Dean paused, stroking his chin.

"I think he'd have two careers," she said. "Being the athletic guy that he is, he might pursue soccer, or something like that." She brushed a hand over Dean's brown curls. "And being the _sensitive_ guy that he is, he'd probably work as a therapist too."

Dean giggled, nodding a bit. His stare grew soft as he watched the kids. "I'd love to see all that," he said. "I'd like to watch them reach their goals, regardless of what those goals might be."

She grinned and leaned her head on Dean's.

"I mean, it's not something that I long for, it'd simply be nice." He looked the children over. "Either way, I'm proud of the kids no matter what."

"Me too," she muttered, watching all three. "Sarah's so receptive to the people around her. Lilli's so patient when her sister needs space. And I'm proud of our son for his compassionate nature."

Dean held quiet. He could say no more.

"And I'm proud of you, Dean," Emma continued. "I'm glad that you've instilled those values in them."

Dean flinched, then turned around. "Come again? I though that you were the one who handled that."

Emma chuckled. "They look up to you."

"Well they definitely look up to their mother too." He held her hand. "You've done just as much parenting as I have, Em."

She beamed sweetly while cupping his face. Then she lifted her gaze to the sights before her. "I guess we've created all we have _together_ — our son, our daughters, our home..." She crouched and drew Dean close again. "And all that we have began with our love."


	37. Family Affairs, Part Seven

**"Family Affairs" — Part Seven**

* * *

Emma woke up slowly within Dean's arms, seeing a gentle wave hit the shore before them.

"You were talking in your sleep," he quietly noted. "You kept saying 'William,' 'Lilli,' and 'Sarah.' "

Emma froze in surprise, feeling a little confused.

She turned and stared at the brown tree house. A sliver of light shined down on the building.

Had the births of their children simply been a dream — or were all of the kids huddled up in that home?

Emma thought about asking Dean for a second, and then decided she wanted to see for herself.

"Walk with me." She took Dean's hand. "I've got to have you with me for this." Emma smiled a little as their trip began. Her heart was filled with a newfound hope. If the kids were real, she couldn't wait to see them. And if they weren't born yet, she sensed she'd meet them one day.

Dean could feel her excitement rising. He followed her gaze to the house in the trees.

Emma searched the beach for any small footprints, but couldn't even manage to pinpoint her own. The sand was quite scattered and messy right now.

As the ladder to the tree house began to grow nearer, Emma took a slow breath, then let it out with a sigh. Every time she'd dreamed about having children, it felt like she'd traveled to another dimension. If it turned out that she wasn't a mother right now, those stories would still have a place in her heart.

She didn't know if the children were actually real, but her love for Dean was, and it always would be.

Her stare began drifting away from the building, and she found it settling on him again. She slowed a little as their gazes met.

"What happened to the big, meaningful stride?" He grinned at her, gently rubbing her hand.

Emma grinned back, then murmured shyly. "Before we go up there, I want to say something."

Dean nodded, watching her with affection.

"No matter what…" She tossed a glance at the tree house. "I'm never going to be unhappy or unsatisfied with what we've built together."

Dean definitely knew that he wouldn't either.

She pulled him close, and placed a kiss on his cheek. Moments afterward, she paused while gripping a rung on the ladder, then reached upward and began her ascent.


	38. You Have To Grow Up Someday

**"You Have To Grow Up Someday"**

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Dean asked, running a hand along Emma's back.

"I'll be all right," Emma replied, staring calmly at her lap.

He held her close, and tapped his head against hers. "We might actually have a kid one day, you know?"

She recalled the last occasion on which they'd had this talk, and noticed a difference in her mood this time. She held quiet a moment, then smiled at him. "I know," Emma said, leaning into his arms. "I've actually come to believe that now."

* * *

Emma stared out at the dancing waters. "In my dream, we had three children, and one was a boy."

Dean nodded in response while listening on, recalling her tales about each of the kids.

"I keep thinking, 'What if that happened in reality?' What if I had children of both genders? And what if I had three?" Emma paused. "Would I become a more experienced mother than…her?"

Dean lifted an eyebrow. "Than who?" he wondered.

Emma licked her lips. "Than my own mother," she said.

He narrowed his eyes, watching her closely. "A more experienced mother…or a better one?"

She lowered her gaze to her twiddling fingers.

"Is that the real reason you want kids, Em?" He wrapped a comforting arm around her. "Are you trying to prove that you can do a better job than your mom?"

Emma paused a moment while considering that question. "No," she answered, speaking quietly. "I've got nothing but love for my mother now. This isn't about my old issues with her. This is only about my feelings for you." She snuggled a little bit closer to Dean.

He placed a soft kiss atop her temple.

"It's about all the things that I've imagined and dreamed of." She ran her gaze across the beach. "I think that this would be a fun place for a kid — even though they couldn't do all the stuff that we got to do growing up."

"Like what?" he asked, wanting to hear her childhood memories.

"Taking a trip to a toy store." She grinned.

Dean chuckled while recalling that experience himself.

"What about you?" Emma wondered. She suddenly realized that they'd never talked much about this. "Besides soccer, tell me about another special memory of yours."

"Christmas break and spring break," Dean said with a smile. "I always got excited whenever those came around."

Emma slowly nodded. "Me too," she concurred.

Dean felt a giddy little warmth in his heart. "There was a time when I never wanted my childhood to end. Of course, my dad always reminded me that I'd have to grow up someday." His voice got softer. "And maybe he was right."

Emma grew curious. "What do you mean 'maybe?' "

Dean glanced around at the familiar island. "You and me…we didn't get to grow up the way that other people do. We didn't have civilization to complete the process."

Emma went quiet as those words sank in.

"I know that we're officially adults now, but do you actually feel like one, or do you still feel like a teenager?"

After a brief bit of silence, she quietly spoke up. "I think I feel like a little of both," she admitted. "But most of the time, I feel like an adult." Emma turned her head to him. "The fact is, we _have_ grown up on this island, Dean. We didn't need civilization in order to mature."

Dean smiled again while holding her close.

"We accomplished that on our own, by being there for each other."


	39. Daybreak

**"Daybreak"**

* * *

 **Several Years Ago**

A freshly made fire danced about on the beach, where a pair of quiet teens knelt face to face. Their hands were joined, and their chests were close. Both watched the other with a look of longing.

"Em…" Dean whispered. "Are you sure?"

She steadied her gaze onto Dean's calm eyes…then pulled his lips over hers again.

Moments later, their clothes were strewn on the sand.

As their first night of lovemaking began to progress, Emma could feel a certain tenderness within Dean's touch. His naked body rested right atop hers, and he was facing the ground as she watched the stars. His eyes were closed, and he held perfectly quiet, as though this moment meant more than he'd been letting on, as though a special dream had come true at last. Emma sensed that this affection hadn't begun on the island; this had to date back to their time as students. Either way, it wasn't just about passion, but something deeper. He hadn't been longing for her body, he'd been longing for her heart.

She brushed her hand across the back of Dean's head, closing her mouth as she pulled him close.

She was glad that Dean had felt something in school — because she'd certainly felt something for him as well. She'd never entirely figured it out, but he'd caught her eye, and captured her thoughts. She couldn't help but wonder about the handsome stranger. There were so many subjects swimming around in her head: his home, his family, his interests, his dreams.

Was her quiet classmate truly hollow inside, or was there more to his heart than she could ever imagine? She'd been asking that question for what felt like a while — and it had finally been answered during their time together.

As another memory of the city arrived, Emma closed her eyes, and forgot where she was.

But she didn't forget just who she was with.

* * *

 **The Present**

Emma and Dean lounged about on the beach, holding all four of their hands together.

She grinned while drawing him close to her, then leaned backward and swayed in place. "What were you expecting when we showed up here?" She still couldn't believe how far they'd come, and wondered if Dean felt as moved as she did.

"I thought we'd get rescued in a few days or so." He eyed the sand while recalling that period. "After I realized we'd be here a while, I didn't know how to react at first. I just knew that we'd have to get used to it."

Emma looked about, smiling at their surroundings. "I'm very used to it now," she said. "I think I've reached that point that we talked about once. I think I want to stay here, instead of going back to the city."

"Really?" he asked, looking deeply surprised.

Emma decided to modify her statement. "What I mean is…I'd be glad if we could see our families again, but I think I'd want them to visit us here."

Dean laughed a little. "And how would that work, exactly?"

"I don't know," Emma said with a chuckle. "It's simply what I'd prefer at present. I'm not a city girl anymore. I'm an island girl now."

Dean smiled and drew her close again. "Then I guess that makes me an island boy."

* * *

Emma cuddled up on the sand with Dean, pausing to nuzzle her nose against his. "I read this book about parenting when I was little. It said that motherhood would be the most emotional, defining journey of my life." She let her stare wander off for a moment. "I guess that's true for some people, but I know that I'm already on that journey."

Dean lifted an eyebrow, holding quiet.

"The most emotional, defining journey of my life is the time that I've spent right here with you." Emma let her calm grin linger on Dean.

He returned her affection, then leaned in closer.

The two shared a long and passionate kiss, then simply relaxed in each other's embrace. As the sun began rising over the bright blue water, they could see that a brand new day was beginning, and even now, after so much time, both felt excited to spend the day together.


	40. When Did You Start Loving Me?

**"When Did You Start Loving Me?"**

* * *

Dean mounted Emma as she sprawled on her back, both laying nude within their dark tree house. Their lips met, and they closed their eyes, their bodies nuzzling against each other.

He lifted his head, then began a descent, his mouth moving gently across her chest.

She noticed that his kisses were coming in pairs. After one arrived, another would follow. He'd give her a soft little peck at first — and then a longer smooch in the very same place.

Emma always knew what this affection meant. It meant that he adored her. It meant that he loved her.

She recalled the first time Dean had kissed her this way. The memory was still fairly clear in her mind. It was back when they'd talked about losing virginity, which seemed like a pretty long time ago.

Emma grew curious while considering that. Dean's level of affection was the same on that day.

Had he already fallen in love with her then?

* * *

 **Several Years Ago**

Emma relaxed beneath the soothing sun, feeling Dean's naked frame crawling right atop hers.

His kisses arrived in twos, she noted. The first was brief, and the second was slow. They were deeply affectionate, almost reverential, and she found herself reacting to everything he did. She closed her eyes as he kissed her cheek, adoring the tenderness within his touch. She opened her mouth as he cherished her breasts, swooning in silence while he touched her there. She stilled her body as he ravished her thighs, liking the feel of his face on her leg. She arched her knees as he reached her ankles, letting his lips soothe the spots around her toes. And she stroked his hair as he crawled back up, drawing his chest upon hers again. It didn't take long for her to reach a conclusion: Dean McMullen was a wonderful lover.

As he entered her, and they found their rhythm, Emma held her eyes closed while frowning in heat. She frowned not in pain, but in absolute bliss, utterly embracing the thrill she'd discovered. To her surprise, it was enhanced by the freedom of being nude outdoors.

After their bodies had quivered in pleasure, they paused to look upon one another. Then they nuzzled their noses, and shared a kiss. They always took the time to add a smooch, she noticed. Making out was nothing new to them, but it seemed to mean more at this particular moment. The kiss afterward was the interesting part. It was a way of celebrating what they'd found together, a way of telling each other that it wasn't all about passion.

* * *

 **The Present**

"Dean?" Emma whispered as they cuddled in the dark, their unclothed bodies in a state of rest.

"Yeah," he murmured drowsily.

A late-night shower was falling now, pelting the tree house with a quiet rain.

"When did you start loving me?" Emma asked in a curious tone.

"The day I first laid eyes on you," Dean replied rather casually.

Emma grinned while watching a wall. "Seriously. When was it?" she wondered.

"You don't remember the night I told you?"

"Of course I do. I'll never forget that." Emma quietly swooned a moment. "I guess I'm just wondering when you told yourself."

Dean quieted, thinking back. Then he smiled a little as the answer arrived. "To love someone is to know someone." He paused a second. "I sound like a 'doctor' on one of those radio shows."

Emma giggled.

"Anyway. A couple of days come to mind: the day I realized that I might love you…and the day I knew that I loved you for sure." Dean gave her a squeeze. "Which one do you want to hear about first?"

Emma smiled again. "The former," she answered. "Is it a day I might remember?"

* * *

 **Several Years Ago**

Dean sat beside Emma as Emma slept, sunlight drifting across her face.

Earlier on, she'd announced that she'd lost her virginity to him, and Dean had felt more touched than he could possibly say.

He still couldn't believe that all of this was real. He was living on a beach with Emma Robinson — the girl who'd always had a plan. The girl who seemed to stand out from her pack. The girl who he'd long had a little crush on.

Dean lifted her hand, and kissed it softly. As his eyes glided down to Emma's stomach, a crazy idea came into his mind: he almost wished that there was a baby in there.

Dean winced a little, then shook his head. He wondered why he'd even entertained that thought. Did he see himself being with Emma long-term? Did he want her to be his one and only?

He licked his lips and took a breath. Then he steadied his gaze on Emma again. He wasn't quite sure that he loved her yet — but he had a good feeling that he could someday.

* * *

 **The Present**

Emma listened as Dean finished the end of the tale.

"And the rest is history," he said. "The more I got to know you, the more I got to love you."

She brushed her fingers across his face.

"I started loving you for sure around the same time that I told you, Em." A bit of silence lingered between them. "Were you hoping it was sooner?"

"No," she said. "I was curious at first…but I think it's nice that it happened then." Emma beamed and held his hand. "Because that was when I fell in love with you too."


	41. Meant To Be

**"Meant To Be"**

* * *

Dean bobbed behind Emma in the dark blue water, rubbing her shoulders as she lay on the float.

Emma's sleepy eyes began drifting shut.

Dean bent forth and placed a kiss on her nose.

He eased his hands down to her thighs and knees, then brought the massage to her ankles and feet. He kept on rubbing once she'd fallen asleep, hoping that she could still feel it off in her dreams.

He found himself smiling as he watched Emma's face. He'd never loved any person on Earth more than he loved her.

* * *

Emma found herself standing on a small green hill. A quiet footstep sounded off behind her. She turned around, then froze in surprise. "Dad?" she uttered, eyeing him in awe.

Phil stood before her in a T-shirt and jeans, his usual outfit during trips to the park. "Hey, kiddo," he said with a grin.

Emma could sense that she was dreaming now, but quickly found that she didn't care. She began moving forward to embrace her father…

Then she stopped in her tracks, and looked herself over.

"What's the matter?" Phil wondered.

Emma noticed that she was wearing a designer suit. She stared at the ground, and smiled a little. "This reminds me of a fantasy I had, back when I was a kid."

He folded his arms. "Tell me about it."

Emma brushed back her hair a little. "Growing up, I used to dream about working in a prestigious courtroom — then meeting you for lunch in some fancy outfit." She wore a shy smile, glancing off to the side. "You never got to see me reach my goals in life. I wanted to make you proud of me."

Phil quieted while studying her for a moment. Then he lowered his gaze, and chuckled a bit.

Emma recognized this old habit of his.

"Parents grow proud for various reasons," he said. "But for the most part, kiddo, it's not about what you become, it's about who you are." Phil walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "And you know I was proud of that, right?"

She slowly nodded, then wrapped her arms around him.

He stroked her head and returned the hug.

* * *

Emma awakened on the sand, looking off to her side. Dean was sleeping soundly in a spot beside her. The float was laying farther up along the beach.

She let herself smile while thinking back on her dream.

After taking a good deal of time to reflect, she cuddled closer to Dean, and closed her eyes once more.

* * *

Emma sprawled out beneath the morning sun, laying naked on her stomach as she watched the waves.

Dean crawled above her, nude as well, placing a kiss atop her round bare bottom.

As more kisses followed in the very same place, Emma couldn't help but smirk a bit. She wished that some of her old friends could see Dean right now, the ones who'd voiced their many fantasies about him.

Despite the amount of time since then, she figured she'd still be the envy of some of those girls.

Dean moved upward and held her close, his loose locks mingling within her own. They both relaxed, laying still on their bellies.

Emma smiled again, letting her stare drift off. She hoped that Dean's old admirers had found guys of their own, and if they hadn't, she hoped that they would.

Either way, she knew that Dean hadn't been meant for anyone else. He was only meant to be with her.


	42. Dear Emma

**"Dear Emma"**

* * *

"Dean?" Emma murmured as they cuddled by the shore.

"Hmm?" he asked, watching the sky turn pink.

Her face shifted into a curious stare. "Did you ever write anyone a love letter back in the city?"

Dean chuckled a little at the thought of that. "Never," he said, sounding proud of his answer.

Emma responded with a playful look. "What? You think that love letters are icky?"

He shrugged a bit, letting his calm grin linger.

Emma rose up, gazing down at him. "What if you'd written one to _me_ back then?" She paused while feeling her insides tingle. "What do you think it would've said?"

Dean turned away, still looking amused. As the memories of those days started coming back, he noticed that his hand was stroking his chin.

Amidst the long moments of silence that followed, his face grew serious as he pondered the question.

Emma watched him with a curious smile.

"Okay…give me a minute," he replied.

It actually took 10 before he could answer.

When Dean turned back, he was eyeing her meekly.

Emma noticed a shyness within his stare, one that she hadn't really seen since their days in school. She let her smile fade and wore a sensitive face, trying to comfort Dean as best she could.

Dean murmured, speaking softly and calmly. "I think I would've said…

" 'Dear Emma.

" 'You're probably the most driven person I've ever met in my life — even though we haven't really met each other.

" 'I think it's nice that you seem so focused on the future. I just wish that I could see you having fun in the present.

" 'It's hard to describe what I mean by that, but if I ever saw you laughing, dancing, or even swimming a little, and it really looked like you were having a good time, I think I'd take a moment to just stop and stare.

" 'I want to see how you look when you're enjoying yourself, and I really hope that I will one day.

" 'Sincerely,

" 'Someone Who Watches You Sometimes.' "

Emma's face broke into a warm little frown. She pulled Dean close, and placed a kiss on his lips. "You get to see that all the time now." She grinned. "Because you're the one who makes it happen."


	43. Dear Dean

**"Dear Dean"**

* * *

Emma rose from her seat as Dean entered the tree house. "So…" she muttered, glancing off at the floor. "I've been thinking about what I would've said myself — if I'd actually written a love letter to _you_."

Dean dropped his sack and flashed an interested grin.

Emma held her hands on her hips for a moment, thinking back to her earliest memories of Dean. A shy little blush swept over her face. "I think I would've said…

" 'Dear Dean.

" 'I've never felt this way about a guy before. Actually, I'm not even sure how I feel about you.

" 'Some of my friends think I've got all the answers in life, but when it comes to you, I only seem to have questions.

" 'What are your goals? What do you like to do? What would it take to make you smile?

" 'How do you bond with your friends and family? What are you like around people you love?

" 'I don't know why, but I can't really seem to stop wondering those things. That's why I hope I get to know you a little better someday.

" 'Sincerely,

" 'Your Secret Admirer.' "

Dean's smile had grown a little softer now. He crossed the floor, and stroked her shoulders.

Emma swooned amidst his gentle touch.

Dean placed a soft little kiss on her forehead. His voice dropped down to just above a whisper. "What? Nothing about me being hot?"

Emma giggled, wrapping her arms around him. She leaned her temple against his chest.

Afterwards, the pair sat together upon their bench, sharing even more thoughts about their past and future.


	44. Then, Now, and Always

**"Then, Now, and Always"**

* * *

 **Several Years Ago**

The office was roomy, and covered in shade. An elegant rug adorned the smooth brown floor.

Dean eyed the ceiling while sprawled on his back, resting his head against the couch's cushion. A tall bookshelf loomed over the sofa, while a clear coffee table sat just to his right. His steaming cup was still filled to the brim.

Instead of being alone, as he'd much prefer, Dean was spending time with his therapist, a well-dressed woman with a black ponytail.

"So," she said, with her Spanish inflection. "Let's talk a little bit about the girl at school."

He tensed a second — but tried not to show it.

"Does Emma know that you're in love with her?"

Dean brushed his forehead and let out a sigh. "It's like I said. When I'm out in public, I tend to keep my feelings to myself," he mumbled. "So…" A scowl crossed his face as her words sank in. "Wait," he uttered, glancing at her a second. "I never told you that I was in 'love' with this girl."

"Then what would you call it?" she asked with a smile.

"I don't really have a definition right now." He held his stare high, avoiding eye contact. "I mean, I know you say that definitions are good — and my school counselor always says the same thing." Dean paused a moment. "You and him are friends, right? Isn't that why he sent me here? Haven't you two known each other for- -"

"You're changing the subject." She grinned again. "We can talk about him a little later if you'd like. I want us to talk about Emma now." She shifted, crossing her legs in the chair. "Tell me about this love that you're feeling for her."

Dean stirred in place, feeling awkward within."Why do you keep calling it love?" he wondered.

"Because what you've described sounds particularly strong."

He cupped his hands, looking down at them.

"Okay, Dean. If it isn't love, let's find another word that sums this up. Is it lust?"

"No."

"Is it admiration?"

"No."

"Is it friendship?"

"…No." He winced a little. "She and I aren't exactly…I mean…" Dean fell quiet, then moped a bit.

The woman leaned forth and stroked her chin. "Tell me what happens when you look at Emma."

A cloud of silence swept over the room. 10 seconds passed, then 20 more followed.

After nearly a minute, Dean found his voice. "When I see her in the halls…walking around with those books to her chest…that long, cute hair swinging about in the air…" His words trailed off. "I don't want to say that time slows, and weepy music starts playing…"

The therapist chuckled.

"But when I'm trying to get through the day, and I turn around and see Emma…it's like for that one brief moment, nothing else really matters."

She listened closely.

"She's got this nice little nose that I want to rub mine against. She's got this cute little smile that I want to take pictures of. She has this calm demeanor, when everyone else gets wild." Dean sensed that his cheeks were reddening now. "And it's not that there's anything wrong with being wild…I just like the little things that make Emma who she is."

The woman nodded, and grinned again. Some of the things Dean was saying sounded deeply familiar. They were the things that married people described now and then.

Dean quieted once more, and his insides tingled. "I think she's someone I'll remember for a very long time, after high school is over, and we've both moved on."

She found herself studying the blush on his face.

"I've never been in love with anyone before, so I can't really say what I feel for Emma. I'm not sure I know her well enough to love her…but maybe things could be different one day."

The therapist held quiet, reviewing his words. Then she leaned forth again, and spread her hands on the desk. "I know you prefer to keep your feelings inside, but if the time ever comes when you do love her, and she's made it clear that she loves you too…how do you think you'll react to that?"

Dean tossed a look of uncertainty her way. Then he turned his head, and stared back at the ceiling.

* * *

 **The Present**

Dean held his face above Emma's own, their nude bodies touching as they heard the waves.

She eyed him calmly with a subtle smirk, wondering what he was thinking of.

He lowered his head, and rubbed his nose against Emma's.

She closed her eyes, rubbing him back with a giggle.

Dean placed a kiss on Emma's lips, then nuzzled his temple beside hers on the leaves. "You're the person I've adored for a very long time."

She brushed her hand along the back of his head, a calm little grin adorning her face.

"And I promise to keep adoring you for a long time to come."


	45. Abortion

**"Abortion"**

* * *

"Do you remember when you asked me if I was pregnant?" Emma murmured as she held Dean's hands. "I mean the very first time, all those years ago?"

Dean threw a calm glance up at the stars, his loose brown curls fluttering about in a breeze. "Yeah," he answered quietly, recalling their talk in the woods that day.

Emma let her hands fall down to her lap, then took a moment to stare at them. "Ever since then, I've been wondering something…" Her voice lowered, and she licked her lips. "If I _had_ been pregnant, and we'd gotten rescued…would I have kept the baby, or had an abortion?"

Dean shivered. His mouth cracked open. It took a little while for him to respond. "…Do you honestly think you could've done that, Em? Do you think you could've had an abortion, I mean?"

Her eyes softened, and she stroked his hand. "I love you so much that I want to say _no_." She looked away. "But the honest truth is, I'm not too sure."

Dean held quiet, breathing in and out.

"I know I wasn't ready to have a child back then…but I can't really say what I would've done." Her gaze drifted onto her lap once more. Then she glanced up at Dean, and squinted a little. "Do you think that makes me terrible?"

"Of course not," he whispered, rubbing his fingers on hers.

"But it makes you uncomfortable to hear it, though."

"Em…" Dean said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Nothing can change the way I feel about you." He quieted again while staring at her. "Why are we discussing this now?" he wondered.

She took a deep breath, then grimaced a bit. "I think I might be pregnant for real this time. I don't know for sure, but a few of the signs have been coming back lately."

Dean flinched, and his eyes went wide. "Really?" he said, feeling his body quiver.

Emma made a slow nod. She looked off at the sand.

"What's the matter?" he muttered. "You don't seem excited."

Emma's eyebrows rose. "A while ago, I would've been," she noted. "Right now…I'm feeling kind of conflicted."

Dean wore a look of stark confusion. "Help me out, Em. I don't get it," he answered.

"I was a workaholic when we lived in the city, but I've gotten used to having _less_ work now. It's like I said, my feelings on motherhood go back and forth. Sometimes I want the responsibility…and sometimes, I don't want to face it at all." Emma wore a long stare as she studied the ground. "Right now, I'm leaning more toward the latter."

Dean paused, looking her over for a while. He hesitated, then spoke up softly. "Would you want an abortion now, if you knew you were pregnant?"

After a short bit of silence, Emma lifted her gaze, watched him closely, and proceeded to do what she'd always done: she looked in her heart, and shared her feelings with Dean. "No," she told him, holding his knees. "If I was pregnant, you and I would raise our baby together."

Dean reached up and cupped her face.

She rubbed his hand, then drew him close. "I love you," she whispered, sporting a gentle grin.

"I love you, Emma," Dean earnestly said.

He leaned toward her, and they shared a slow kiss.


	46. Choice

**"Choice"**

* * *

Dean cuddled with Emma in the warm lagoon, watching as she glided her legs about. Being in the water reminded him of something — something that they rarely discussed anymore. He lowered his voice, taking a gentle tone. "If we could leave by sea, which would you choose: a canoe, a motorboat, or a pair of jet skies?" Dean smiled while imagining the last of those.

"None of the above," Emma said rather calmly, letting her eyes linger closed as they spoke. She recalled some of their previous talks about leaving. "I know I've kind of _hinted_ at this before…but I can say for sure now that if I had a choice, I'd choose to stay here." She opened her eyes. "I might change my mind later, but that's how I honestly feel."

"How come?" he asked, rubbing her dampened blonde hair.

She made an awkward face. "I wouldn't want to be normal."

Dean's gaze shifted into a look of confusion.

"What I mean is, I'm not exactly motivated to become a judge anymore. It'd require year after year of studies and stress." She looked around. "I've gotten so used to the leisure here that I'd have to take a 'normal' job back in the city." Emma shrugged a little. "And I'm not suggesting that there's anything wrong with that, but I don't think I'm the kind of person who'd want to be normal."

Dean held quiet, trying to take that in.

Emma reached up and stroked his curls. "I'm strange, aren't I?"

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it, though. I read your mind. I'm this super odd, quirky girl."

He kissed her cheek. "A quirky girl who I've loved for a while."

She grinned brightly, nuzzling her back against Dean.

"A quirky girl who I'll love forever."

Emma lowered her hands, wrapping her arms around his. Her thoughts drifted off to a memory of school. She recalled an old theory that she'd heard in the halls: _The quiet boy is in love with you._

She'd dismissed that of course, thinking the girl was mistaken. But regardless of what Dean's feelings were then, he'd certainly fallen in love with her now — and Emma was utterly in love with him too, with absolutely no chance of that ever changing.


	47. Treasure

**"Treasure"**

* * *

With a mighty swing and a playful smile, Emma sliced a vine away as she cut through the forest, her hair gathered up in a thick blonde bun. She paused upon reaching a sizeable creek, fixing her eyes on the glistening stream.

Emma held her sack tightly as she moved through the water, securing the fruit that she'd found on her search.

After crossing the gap and stepping back on the ground, she noticed something that she'd missed when arriving before. An old brown box was laying lodged in the mud, one of its corners pointing up toward Emma.

Her jaw dropped slowly, and her eyes filled with awe.

* * *

"You haven't opened it yet?" Dean asked in surprise, eyeing the box as he stood beside her.

"I wanted us to do that together." She smiled.

A flutter of sunlight drifted down on the beach, spreading its warmth along the soft white sand.

Dean and Emma crouched side by side, pausing a moment as they studied the wood. After briefly gazing toward one another, they lifted the lid, and took a peek inside.

"You've got to be kidding!" Emma's gaze lit up.

Dean began trembling with excitement as well.

A number of books were laying about in the box, their yellowing pages still bound in place. No images were present on any of them — just a black hardcover, and the name of the work.

Emma pulled Dean close in a joyful thrill, then reached inside and opened one of the tomes.

* * *

Almost all of the books were romantic tales. The only exception was an old dictionary.

Emma grinned warmly as she read definitions. It was fun to get a formal education again.

Dean wondered how long the box had been in the ground. None of the stories were familiar to them.

After about 30 minutes, a game was begun.

" _Diffident_ ," Emma said, holding her stare on the page. "What does it mean?"

Dean stroked his chin while sprawled out on his side. "Sounds familiar," he noted.

She watched with a grin.

"Give me a hint."

Emma snickered a little. "My friends used a similar word when they talked about you."

"Ah," he replied, snapping his fingers. "In that case, it must mean _wonderful_."

"Nope."

"How about _fascinating_?"

"Nope."

" _Intriguing_?"

"No." She made a playful frown. "Don't _intriguing_ and _fascinating_ basically mean the same thing?"

"Why are you asking me? You've got a dictionary in your hands."

Emma chuckled again, eyeing Dean with affection.

"All right then…" he said, rolling onto his back. "What does it mean?"

She quieted while looking him over a little. "It kind of means _shy_ ," she muttered, holding her grin on Dean.

He nodded slowly, staring up at the clouds. Moments later, he smiled and shrugged. "I think we both know who helped me get past that."

Emma blushed, throwing her gaze at the ground.

"My turn," Dean said, taking the book as he rose. After turning the pages for a couple of minutes, he finally settled on a particular term. " _Abstracted_ ," he uttered. "What does it mean?"

Emma narrowed her eyes while looking off at the waves. "…Wait. I know what that means," she said. "It means…" Her words trailed off, and she licked her lips.

After nearly a minute, Dean flashed a grin. "Want a hint?" he asked, throwing a wink her way.

"I _know_ I'm familiar with that term," she insisted. "I just can't get it to come to me now. I…"

"Think about my old impressions of you — when I watched you sometimes, walking around in the halls."

Emma recalled their discussions on that, but the definition simply wouldn't arrive. After another minute passed, she let out a sigh. "What does it mean?" she quietly asked.

"It means being unconcerned with what's around you," he noted. "It means having your focus- -"

"On something else." She grinned a bit. "I was always focusing on the future…overlooking the present — 'til I met someone who helped me live a little." She reached out and took Dean's hand in hers.

He brushed his thumb across Emma's fingers, then handed the book to her again.

After flipping some pages, she paused on a word. "Here's another opinion you used to have. You used to find me _fetching_ ," she said.

He searched his mind for the definition. "That means beautiful, right?" Dean winced a bit. "I still think you're beautiful, Em," he stressed.

"I know." She winked. "I just wanted to hear that."

Dean giggled again, laying back on the sand.

* * *

A star-filled sky was hanging over the island. An orange firelight decorated the beach.

Emma sprawled out in her blue bikini, propping her head against a pillow of vines. She studied a novel as Dean lay before her, his fingers massaging between her toes. "Whatever you do…don't stop," she purred.

Dean chuckled a bit, looking up at the book. "So what's it about?" he asked as he rubbed.

"It's kind of familiar, actually. It's about an unexpected bond between a girl and a boy."

Dean nodded a little as he listened on.

"It's about her loving this guy more than anyone else…" She glanced at Dean. "And it's about how the boy feels the same toward her."

He grinned while stroking along her skin. "Do they get a happy ending?" he curiously asked.

"I guess that depends on your definition of _happy_. Neither of them get what they wanted at the start…but what comes to matter more is that they have each other." Her face brightened again. "That sounds like a happy ending to me."


	48. Thoughts of You

**"Thoughts of You"**

* * *

"So what's going on in the book?" Dean asked, stroking Emma's hair as she studied a novel.

"Not much," she replied, flattening her lips. "The girl is in some sort of strange, ancient therapy session."

Dean chuckled a little as a memory arrived. He recalled some of his own psychology meetings. "I never really cared for that stuff," he noted.

Emma halted the reading, glancing over her shoulder. "You attended therapy?" she curiously asked.

Dean nodded. "Now and then," he said.

Her fascination began to flourish. "What did you and the therapist talk about?" she wondered.

He stroked his curls and looked aside. "Family. Ambitions." Dean's voice went low. "We even talked a bit about you," he revealed.

Emma lowered the book and turned around. "Now this I have to hear," she said. An excited smile swept over her face. She crawled on Dean and flattened him out, letting her head linger right above his. "What, exactly, did you say about me?"

Dean giggled again, running his hands on her hips. "I told her that there was this girl in school…Emma Robinson…a girl who I'd spent a lot of time thinking about."

She beamed while recalling their days as students. She remembered all the hints of what Dean had admitted.

"She wondered if I was in love with you. I said that I wasn't…" He paused a moment.

"And you were lying," Emma teased. She grinned and placed a soft peck on his cheek.

"I told her about the way you moved, the way you smiled…how you seemed like someone I might want to know better." He stroked her face. "And I was right."

Emma watched him warmly, holding briefly quiet. Moments later, she glanced away. "I had some therapy myself," she noted.

Dean was surprised, and certainly looked it.

"I got stressed about stuff every now and then: the secret I kept, the pressures of school, my future ambitions…and other things." Emma pursed her lips, then spoke a bit softer. "My therapist asked me how I coped with stress." She eyed him again. "One of my ways of coping was to think about you."

Dean looked a little more curious now.

"Back then, when I got upset, sometimes I'd summon a few thoughts of my handsome classmate, and all the things I imagined about your private life." Emma smiled while recalling those fantasies.

"And that helped?" Dean wondered.

"Now and then," she said. "But after a while, I didn't want fantasies, I wanted reality. I wanted to know the real Dean McMullen." She kissed his lips. "And now I do."

Dean smiled back, brushing a hand through her locks. A few seconds later, they rolled on their sides, and gently embraced.


	49. A Year Without Clothes

**"A Year Without Clothes"**

* * *

 **Several Years Ago**

Dean sprawled out on the therapist's couch, an arm draped lazily across his face. He took a long breath, and let it out slowly. "You were right about Emma." He covered his eyes. "I'm in love with her."

The therapist flinched, then flashed a smile. She picked up her pen and wrote their progress down: _It seems that Dean is finally being honest with himself._

"Then again..." Dean said, "maybe I don't love her after all."

Her jaw fell open, and her writing stopped. She chuckled a bit, and drew a line through her note.

"Sorry. I know I go back and forth on this."

"It's okay," she whispered, interlocking her fingers. "Let's return to the start of this conversation. Tell me why you think you're in love with her."

Dean hesitated, then reached for his phone. "We were recently told to make these _statements_ in class. Speeches or poems about our life ambitions." He sat up and faced her, licking his lips. "When it was Emma's turn...I recorded hers." Dean pressed a button and turned the screen outward.

A video of Emma appeared on his phone. She faced the room, and read from her paper:

"Sometimes I think no one in my life understands me.

"My friends think I'm 'smug' because I don't like to party.

"My sister thinks I'm 'perfect' when I'm anything but.

"My dad thinks I'm 'quiet,' when I have so much to say."

She paused a moment, then slowly continued.

"But even though it seems like they don't get _me_ , I know that I'll always care about them." She looked into space. "And I care about other people as well. I'm going to _prove_ it when I grow up. I think I'll serve the community." Emma wore a shy face. "But why am I trying to help a world that doesn't understand _me_?" She smiled a little, and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess sometimes, I don't even understand myself."

Dean stopped the recording, and closed his phone.

The therapist grinned, taking everything in. "That last part is key," she quietly said. "I take it you feel the same way as her."

Dean ran a finger across his cheek.

"So that's the main reason you're drawn to her now? The fact that the two of you have this in common?"

"It's not just that. It's the other stuff too. She seems so thoughtful, so sensitive...so mature..." Dean's voice went low, then slowly trailed off.

She watched him a moment, letting some silence linger. "Are you in love with her, Dean?"

He frowned a bit. "I don't know. I think I'll always be confused about that."

She stroked her chin.

"Sometimes it feels like I'm _close_...but I fight it off. I try to resist what I feel for her. And not just Emma. Others too." He cupped his hands and stared at them. "I can't risk opening my heart to people."

The therapist watched him with a look of concern. "Why do you think that is?" She already knew, but wanted Dean to discuss it.

He rubbed his brow. "Because if I open my heart, I'll risk getting hurt." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I'd rather feel nothing at all."

* * *

 **Several Years Later**

Dean watched Emma as she slept on the beach. It was the morning after he'd admitted he loved her.

The sun crawled over her naked frame. Her long hair fluttered about in the wind. She lay on her back, an arm draping her stomach.

He thought of how long he'd had feelings for Emma — how he'd given her quick little glances in school, how he'd tipped his hand when they spoke on the boat, how he'd acted indifferent when they came to the island, how he'd opened his heart as they started to bond, how he'd gone all quiet when they'd first made love, how he'd talked like a moron the morning after, how he'd gotten all scared when she'd hurt herself, and how he'd shown his affection for her ever since. He'd tried to feel nothing. He simply couldn't.

Around one minute later, she moved a tad, letting him know that she was awake.

Dean looked up into Emma's calm gaze, taking a moment to admire her face. He smiled and recalled what he'd said last night. He had no problem repeating it now. "I love you, Emma." His stare went soft. "I always will."

She grinned and rested her hands on her stomach. A sudden happiness rushed through her frame, and she saw the same look on his face too.

Dean crawled upward, kissing one of her thighs. Then he gripped them both and spread her legs.

Moments later, Emma closed her eyes, moaning loudly as she felt Dean's lips. Her chest reacted, growing firm and tight. Soon enough, Dean's mouth was moving along her breasts, kissing deeply, and sucking as well.

She pressed her hand against the back of his head, encouraging him to go on and on.

Dean felt extremely grateful now. He wanted to live on this island forever.

He recalled some of his old fantasies about her — then he brushed them aside, liking reality more.

Life had given him that which he'd wanted most. Life had given him Emma.

* * *

 **The Present**

They stood on the beach, staring down at a hole. It had taken about half an hour to dig.

They'd lived on the island for a long time now, and figured that a decade had probably passed. They'd discussed this before, but hadn't been too sure.

Though they still didn't know if they were right or wrong, they'd decided it was time to mark the occasion.

Emma pulled off her long blue shirt, and Dean did the very same thing with his. Both dropped their garments within the hole.

They eyed one another, and shared a giggle, each asking if they were sure about this.

Emma stripped off her old tank-top, which had grown a bit ragged during her years on the island.

Dean removed his T-shirt now.

Their shorts followed. Their swimsuits too. And soon enough, both were totally nude.

The clothes sat gathered within the deep, round hole — then a bundle of sand dropped over the pile.

Within about 10 minutes, all the clothes were buried.

Emma and Dean shared another quick laugh. They couldn't quite believe what they'd just done.

"So it's settled, then." Dean held his hips. "Those clothes aren't coming up for a year." They agreed to jot marks while keeping track of time.

"Guess not," she said, eyeing Dean's ripped frame. "Maybe we'll forget where they are by then. I wouldn't mind seeing you nude all the time." Emma walked over with a sensual look, her lips pursed outward as she took slow steps. She pressed her breasts against Dean's bare chest, then reached down and held his sensitive spot.

He twitched in response, loving Emma's soft skin.

She cupped Dean's face, and kissed him deeply, their nude frames dark against an orange sunset.

* * *

Emma sat cross-legged on the small, wood float, meditating as she drifted about.

Dean was sprawled on the nearby beach, flipping the pages of a little black novel.

Emma took a slow breath, then let it out. Seconds later, a woman's voice spoke to her.

"It looks like you got the guy who always 'confused' you."

Emma turned to the side with a faint little smile. An apparition drifted beside her now, one who looked like her old therapist in the city. "Hi, Miss Smith," she said pleasantly. "Long time no see." Emma shrugged her bare shoulders. "I mean, I know I'm imagining you right now, but, well...you get what I'm saying."

The woman responded with a soothing grin. She wore a formal shirt over a bristling blouse, her hair bundled up in a tight brown bun. "Are you really gonna wear your birthday suit for a year?"

Emma nodded, feeling like she would blush.

Miss Smith let out a chuckle. "And you're comfortable with that?"

"I certainly am." She eyed the island with love. "I'm home," she continued, "here, with Dean." Another warm smile spread over her face.

Miss Smith turned toward the beach as well. "Is being with him everything you hoped for?"

Emma spoke softly. "He's so amazing." She beamed while watching the man she loved. "I've never been closer to anyone in my life."

Miss Smith looked pleased, staring on with affection. "I'm happy for you, Emma," she quietly said.

"Thanks," Emma uttered, eyeing the woman sweetly. "I always enjoyed getting to talk with you."

The older woman grinned, then faced the beach.

Emma looked off toward the island too. Moments later, her therapist was gone.

"Emma," Dean called, waving a sheet of paper that he'd found in the book. "Take a look at this. I think it's a map of the island."

* * *

Emma cuddled Dean within their dark tree house, holding him as they lay on their sides. The map was secured in a safe location.

"I'm guessing it leads to another box or something." Dean grinned brightly. "Maybe it leads to another set of books," he said.

The map was quite old, and drawn in faint longhand, yet some of the landmarks were familiar to them. A few large dots were jotted down on the page, apparently pointing to additional boxes.

All in all, it appeared to be an ancient scavenger hunt, created by someone who'd likely been bored.

Emma beamed a little. "Maybe we'll learn something about the people before us. I think that finding this thing will be fun."

He stroked her fingers. "I think so too."

Emma held Dean close, running a hand on his chest. "I love you more than I can say."

Dean wore a soft grin, leaning back against her. "I love you too, Emma," he happily said. "I always will."


	50. Past and Future

**"Past and Future"**

* * *

Emma and Dean eased down on a log, sitting together in a quiet swamp. The soft moss cushioned their naked skin. They'd nearly reached their destination, but needed some time to refresh themselves.

Three rays of sunlight cut into the forest, one bathing Emma in a glittering beam. "How come we don't do this more often?" she asked, taking a sip from the water bottle. "How come we don't actually _explore_ this island?"

Dean looked outward, then chuckled a bit. It took a few seconds for him to respond. "When we got settled here...when we got secure...there was a part of me that didn't really want to explore. I guess I was worried that we'd find a way off."

She flinched a tad, eyeing him curiously.

He lifted her hand, looking down at her ring. "You weren't my wife back then, you were my high-school crush. You were the girl I used to think of when I stared at my ceiling." He smiled a little as the memories came back. "Coming here, being alone with you...there was a part of me that didn't really want that to end. It just took me a while to admit it out loud."

She grinned herself while stroking his hand.

"After we actually fell in love, most of those worries kind of faded away." He shrugged. "I just never really felt like exploring much. My favorite spots were good enough for me. We found the tree house. We found the lagoons. We found those pools that we slide into. We found those peaks where we watch the stars..." Dean glanced around. "I always figured that we'd explore the rest _eventually_ — but I kind of kept putting it off in my mind."

Emma nodded. "Me too," she concurred. "I don't really know _why_ I put it off, though. I guess that's what I was asking you." She paused a moment. "Maybe it relates to what I mentioned once. I don't need to look forward all the time anymore, because I actually like where I am right now."

* * *

The map had brought them to a large grass valley. Their target was buried at the top of a hill.

Following a climb that lasted nearly an hour, Dean and Emma made it up a huge green slope.

"They certainly aren't making this easy, are they?" Emma took in the unusual view. Thick clouds stretched down the blue horizon. Soft blades bristled on the ground where they stood. She looked about, finding no box in sight. "I hate to ask now, but are we sure that this is the right hill?" she wondered.

Dean glanced around with curious eyes. "The map pointed us to the tallest," he murmured. "I'm pretty sure this is the- -" His words faded as he stepped on something. "Em," he said, motioning toward the grass. "Something's different right here."

She followed his gaze. A patch of dirt was present in the mass of green.

They eyed one another, then knelt in place, their nude skin warmed by the glistening sun. With some makeshift tools made of hard bamboo, the two began digging through the loose, brown dirt.

Sure enough, in a matter of seconds, Emma and Dean found another wood box.

She grinned in excitement, her whole body shaking.

Dean smiled too, feeling a wave of awe.

Upon opening the box, they found additional books, plus another map, identical to the first.

Something else was waiting for them as well — a little note placed at the top of the pile. The paper looked ancient; it was brittle and worn.

Emma held it up, and both studied the message:

" _My name is Cecilia Liliana Brightwood, daughter of Sir T.W. Brightwood III."_

Dean eyed Emma with a puzzled expression, getting the very same look from her. These sounded like rich people whom they'd never heard of.

" _My secondary passion in life is art. My greatest passion is exploration. The latter is precisely what brought me here. This island seemed an interesting place to explore."_

Emma turned back to Dean again. She wondered just how long ago this was written.

" _After finding a tree house, and gathering rations, my party and I began searching the grounds. Unfortunately, there is nothing worth finding on this little rock. As such, we've happily left this place._

" _Before departing, I relieved myself of some dreadful books. They were gifts from my mother, but I found them dull. I suppose I'll convince her that each was lost. In the event that you happen to enjoy them, however, you will find this map that I've sketched quite useful. It leads to a few other boxes like this, each with a duplicate map inside. I have buried more than books as well. Run along now, and unearth them all._

" _Remember, never stop exploring."_

* * *

Dean and Emma sat side by side, reading new novels in their brown tree house.

"So," he said, "now we know who's responsible for all these books."

Emma grinned while setting the novel down. "I'm certainly grateful for each of them." She paused a moment, a thought coming to her. "Something she mentioned stands out to me."

Dean looked curious, and lowered his tome too.

"She got bored because she couldn't find anything on the island." Emma watched Dean with an affectionate smile. "I guess she never learned what we found out: you have to _build_ something worth having here."

Dean took Emma's hand in his.

She returned the affection and stroked his fingers. Then they leaned toward each other, and slowly kissed.


End file.
